


Behind Doors

by CrystallizedInsomniac



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Blood Kink, Blood and Gore, DFAB reader, Disturbing Themes, F/M, I guess this covers it all??, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Minor Character Death, Physical Abuse, Reader Insert, Religion, Sexual Content, Stalking, Torture, Violence, first try at a darker fanfic, mild gore actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-03-15 22:18:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 42,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3464117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrystallizedInsomniac/pseuds/CrystallizedInsomniac
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Running from your problems has always been your way to cope. However, despite your best efforts at avoiding certain things and being moved to an All-Girls-Catholic School to prevent any further trauma, you certainly couldn't have avoided the killer's attention. </p><p>Praying and hoping for the best won't work this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 01

You had been put on cleaning duty that afternoon after classes had ended. Broom in hand and hair tied back you had begun sweeping the classroom floor from the previous mess left by your classmates. A huge array of glitter, papers and markers had been left forgotten in tables, chairs, walls (and okay, the teacher shouldn't have left these girls with the hot-glue gun) and you were pretty sure that the stick that was hanging on the ceiling was not just decoration for the classroom.

It wasn't a hard job per say, you became pretty occupied in the meanwhile as you swiped, organized and cleaned. A thing you had become accustomed to ever since your parents had left you at this all-girls catholic academy. Okay, they didn't left you per say, and while you had no problem adjusting and making friends, things felt a little bit lonely, almost as if, boring. You would tell yourself it was for the greater good, another part of you though, argued, that this was not the way to overcome your fear.

But you never had a say in the matter anyways, and you ended up being sent to this place where girls might as well be guys. You thought that maybe it was the single comforting thought of all the students being girls, there was no pressure to feel pretty, makeup was basically non-existent (and okay, maybe some used mascara and eyeliner, but the nuns, they never batted an eyelash) and the need to always look fantastic was not always present. It was nice though, not having to worry about things you used to worry about before.

You picked up another pencil, adding it to the growing collection you held in your other hand and crouched below some tables when you heard some voices heading towards the room, it might've been that they startled you, but the minute the door opened you jumped, hitting your head underneath the table and falling, hand tightening on the pencils as you let out a small hiss.

The people that had arrived, must've not noticed your presence yet, and you were about to go out from underneath the table (last thing you needed was for your art teacher to scold you for skipping out on cleaning duty), if it wouldn't have been for what they were talking about. A part of you reprimanded your actions, however, a certain word had caught your interest.

                "-Dear Gracious! Those are atrocious news!" A nasally voice gasped out softly, as if fearing anyone would hear them, some chairs were moved and the sound of the supply closet being opened caught your ears. You tried to make yourself as small as possible, while trying to ignore the throbbing on your head from when you had hit the table.

                "Yes, hopefully they'll catch him before he ventures out any closer to the academy-" Another voice this time spoke, this one you recognized right away as the principal's voice, you frowned, trying to lean in when her voice dropped severely into mere whispers, you barely caught some words, too incomprehensible for your mind to process.

                "-ock down the school...-you know, just in case."

                "The Lord will help us, we are under his watchful eye, no harm will arrive on this school." The principle seemed almost offended by the offer, the closet supply closed and you looked towards it. From your spot, you could see that both their feet were not facing your way, meaning that they must've been facing forward, not your way.

                "I do not doubt, but still, this is a serial killer. Sister Johan has said so herself, news travel quite fast and if this... hooligan, has escaped prison many times before. What would happen if he finds this school, it will be dangerous to put the ladies in grave danger."

The footsteps began to fade away and so did the conversation. You remained in your position for a couple of minutes more, even after the door had been closed before going out from beneath the table. Setting the pencils inside a nearby blue cup, you stretched out, patted your skirt and fixed your hair. The information managing to settle some emotions in the pit of your stomach.

A killer? Nearby? if the nuns were right, they must do something in case this guy gets close. The single thought made your chest squeeze painfully and you took a deep breath, to calm yourself down. Your [eye colour] eyes glistened under the warm setting sun as your gaze traveled out the windows, each one of them illuminating the classroom in soft orange hues.

Your eyes went over the yard outside, some students going on with their own lives and just past them, a fence separating the woods from the school campus.

This place was too secluded for anyone to find it, lest they follow the main road. You've read many novels before, mystery ones, although ones that do not go against the school's rules. If you were a killer, you'd doubt that you'd take the main road, possibilities of being caught where endless. However, cursing through the woods and hoping out for the best had three possible outcomes.

You could either get lost and perish, get found out or find your way to the school through sheer luck. Even if this guy did take the woods, him finding the academy would take forever, if not, never. This single thought set you at ease.

That however, did not made you keep your mouth shut. You ended up rather quickly tidying up the room, running down the long halls towards the library, one of the biggest rooms in the school area. Windows displaying various important scenes of the bible, each and one of them broken down into mosaics with different colours that when hit by light, would taint the room in a soft glow of different colours. Giving the place a sense of serenity.

You had been looking around for your group of friends and found them all doing their homework, something you had to do. Your backpack was already there, books out, they had been waiting for you. You sat down and began to explain to them what you had heard. It only took a couple of twenty minutes, once you had settled to do your math homework, when the whispers had increased in volume pertaining the information.

Information, you knew, travelled fast. The girls were always aware of everything going on outside the world, what's with the lack of electronics and any sort of communication to the outside world, the only thing to keep yourself occupied with was constant gossipping about what the other girls did, who hadn't prayed when told to. Which girls from the choir had kissed and which group of girls were the ones throwing toilet paper out the windows.

So anything of the sorts this important, had sent most of the girls into a frantic state. Sure enough, by the time it was dinner time and you were all supposed to head to the cafeteria to eat. The whole place was filled with whispers and murmurs of the killer who had yet to be identified. You could tell that most of them did not believe.

There were rumors going around that the nuns had done that just to scare the girls who were always found out outside their bedrooms after curfew. Other rumors where going on about how this place was so held back in communication, that this sort of stuff was probably years old and it was now reaching the nun's ears.

You on the other hand, while trying to block out the sound of chatter and squeals and who knows what other nonsense, had been about to dive into your soup when you felt all eyes on you, lowering the spoon you raised a single eyebrow. "What?"

 

                "We asked you if you think this is real or not." One of your friends asked, cutting her lasagna before taking a bite out of it.

Oh, so they were also talking about the whole killer thing.

You gave a nonchalant shrug, "I mean, I don't know... it could be. I don't think the sisters hate us that much to make up something that severe."

                "You know, [Name]'s right. Sister Johan is very strict when it comes to lying," another girl spoke, rubbing her hand slowly, "I can still feel the ruler hitting my hand when I told her I had forgotten where I left my homework."

This earned a couple of giggles from the other girls and a small smile from your part. Looking down at your soup, you took a sip from the spoon, liking the way the hot liquid managed to calm you down a little. It wasn't the fact that you didn't believe it, usually the sisters weren't liars even for the sake of it. It was just that, knowing that your parents were far away and you were here without their protection, managed to bring upsetting memories.

Seeing as your group of friends had stopped talking about it, you had been zoning out for the vast majority of the time, and where all quiet and eating their dinner (whether it was because they had managed to scare themselves talking about it) you decided to change the subject into something lighter, soon enough the table was filled with laughter and your mind was put back at ease.

Sure enough, with the week progressing and almost nearing it's end. The rumours of the killer had been slowly disappearing back into the mind of the students. Other things had started to become even more interesting and somewhere along the way, some of the girls had begun to describe what they thought the killer looked like.

You were quite intrigued but soon shook it off, obviously they must've been getting these weird images on his appearance from books they had previous read. A common trait though, was that he most likely had short hair and blue eyes. You often got a lot of the students asking you to draw out what they thought he looked like, you often did out of pure amusement. Wanting to see how you could bring to life the killer. However, even though most of the students would agree that whatever headcanon they had on the killer was how he looked, you just couldn't seem to picture him like those ideas.

Except that one time you were called by a group of new students, one of them claiming that one of the new girls had actually seen the killer as he had finished killing off her neighbours, which really would explain why she was sent here. You had reluctantly sat down, sketchbook open as you took out one of your pencils.

You had sat down facing the girl, a blonde with green eyes and freckles. She seemed almost unnerved, being pressured by her friends and those other girls who surrounded the two of you waiting to see what she, the one out of all the girls in the school, had actually witnessed the guy, described what he looked like.

You almost wanted to doubt her, maybe she was doing it for attention, claiming she had seem him. But then again, you gave her the benefit of doubt. Who knows? Maybe she did, maybe she didn't. It wasn't like they were going to find out anytime soon, the guy was probably arrested again in the passing week.

You bit your lip when her eyes settled on your form, she seemed scared, almost shaking and you couldn't help but place a hand on her shoulder giving it a light squeeze.

                "It's okay, you don't have to do this if it's too much." You whispered, earning a few disappointed 'awes' from the crowd, although these went unnoticed by your ears. You didn't know if it was out of compassion, but something about her reminded you of when you were her age, scared.

She seemed to debate it, before shaking her head. "I- It's okay... I'll try my best to describe him."

You gave a simple nod and grabbed your pencil, tip of it in the paper as you waited for her description.

                "He had long black hair, it probably reached his hips- it seemed tangled, really messy. It...It was covered in blood." The girl began and you began to draw the hair, something that you usually left for last, but really, what else could you do?

                "His face was extremely white, I could see it, even in the dark, his eyes... they were huge- black rims around his eyes, it almost seemed like he had no eyelids. And oh God... his mouth- I... I- it was too wide, too wide for him to smile like that. he must've cut it, that..."

This earned a couple of murmurs from the girls, who were all much preoccupied paying attention to the blonde, something for which you were grateful for, having lots of eyes on you while you were drawing was annoying.

                "I... he was wearing a white hoodie, it was horrible... it was covered in blood. All of him..." By this point, the girl had reduced to whimpering, tears rolling down her cheeks and it took you a second to realize to where she was getting at. You stopped the already finished drawing, moving to sit closer to her, ignoring the grass that tickled your leg in a bothersome way.

                "Samantha... that's your name right?" You asked, compassion in your voice, the girl nodded. "Look, I need you to answer me this."

She looked at you through blurry vision, more tears streaming down her cheeks, her form shaking slightly. By now everyone around had gotten quiet, the only sound was that of Samantha's whimpers and sobs and the window blowing at the leafs of the trees.

                "You know his eye colour... right?" You asked, carefully, not wanting to disturb her. However, her reaction instantly gave it away when she nodded, and threw herself into your arms, you could feel your dress shirt getting wet, but you paid no mind to it.

                "It's okay love, he's not going to harm you. He doesn't know you're here, I doubt he'll remember you." Even though you said this, you couldn't believe your own words. From what you've heard, no one has gotten out alive when they've seen him. If he was looking for this girl only, then you couldn't help but pity her poor soul.

However, your words managed to calm her down a bit. After that, you tried to calm her down completely, trying to ignore how one of the girls had picked up the sketch and was being handed around for all of them to see. Finally it ended up in her hands and she covered her lips with one, the tears beginning to form, however, her eyes held a pure emotion that made your stomach twist.

Fear.

                "It's..." Her eyes snapped forward, looking at you as if she was afraid. "You-"

                "Alright ladies, what's with all of the commotion?" All heads snapped towards the sound of the new voice and instantly the whole circle went dead silent. One of the sisters was standing there, an amused look on her face. She was looking at you specifically, you tried to play it cool and gave her a small smile.

                "Ah, Sister Magdalene, we were just finishing a prayer circle." You lied easily, all of the girls must've been ready for this because in a blink of an eye, they all had a rosary in their hands. The sister eyed the small group of girls before her eyes settled on the sketchbook, your gaze shifted quickly towards it, Samantha was still clutching it, her eyes still red, never meeting anyone's gaze.

It almost seemed like an eternity before the sister spoke; "Very well, well ladies, it's almost time for dinner, so get inside."

With that, all girls quickly scattered away from the circle. Samantha included, but before leaving, she handed you the sketchbook back. Sister Magdalene held your shoulder, stopping you from walking away. You swallowed the lump in your throat, looking behind your shoulder at the sister. She had this eerie air about her. "Yes?"

                "[Name], God gave you a wonderful gift for drawing," you clutched the sketchbook closer to your chest, "please do not use it to scare the other girls. You know the rules, you're a good girl. Try not to disappoint the big man up stairs."

You nodded, "Alright. I'll be seeing you tomorrow morning then, I can't wait to discuss the book you assigned us last week."

With that, she let you go and as you walked into the main building. You couldn't help but wonder if she had noticed how nervous you were, your hands wouldn't stop shaking.


	2. 02

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some action happens. Maybe.

                "In the heat of battle he promised God that if he was victorious he would offer as sacrifice the first thing that met him when he returned home from the battle-"

Your hand moved almost mechanically in a slow motion, apprehension clawing deep in your stomach as you observed the teacher, you could see the way her lips moved, pronouncing sounds that turned to words that didn't quite reach your ears. Even if you attention was focused on her, your mind was somewhere deep in thoughts. Your hand had been moving for quite a while now, leaning forward slightly on your desk, you almost wanted to look down, that however, would break the eye contact you had with your teacher, which would lead to her calling you out.

Most likely, will also lead to the question of what you were drawing, and that you yourself didn't know. It happened, from time to time whenever you were deep in thought your hand would almost immediately doodle anything, unconsciously, until you were snapped out of it. Usually the doodles were small little things that often didn't make sense, or actually did.

However, luck was never on your side and you knew exactly what you were drawing. You really wanted to slap yourself, that will, however, bring attention to you.

                "For two months before her death she went up into the mountains with her companions, where she lamented that she-"

What time was it anyways? You were pretty sure it was almost time for your third class. Sighing, you blinked, leaning back into your chair before breaking eye contact with the teacher, you already knew the story, the name clearly displayed on the chalk board just behind the nun. You could easily tell that not every other girl was paying attention, you could swear that there was the almost non-existent sound of someone snoring.

Your [eye colour] eyes flickered to the paper and a frown made its way into your face. Quickly, without making too much of a show, you ripped the paper and crumbled it in your hands. Reaching for your bookbag, just besides your desk, you opened it to toss the crumpled paper inside. Almost.

                "[Name]?"

You mentally face palmed yourself, feeling all eyes on yourself. From your spot and from the way the nun had been looking at you, glasses on the edge of her sharp nose, gave the lens a reflective light coming from the windows. You kept your hand inside your bag, tilting your head slightly to the side. "Yes?"

                "Is there anything you want to share with the rest of the class?" The woman asked, though she didn't mean any attempt at making you look bad. Maybe it was the fact that the way you ripped out the paper and crumbled it wasn't as quiet and discreet as you thought it out to be. Biting your lip, you shook your head, already feeling a small blush creeping up your ears. There were some girls who were snickering, while the others kept on looking at you.

                "Alright." The sister replied, pushing the glasses back up with her index finger before continuing with the reading. You let out a small breath you didn't know you were holding before setting the bag down again and closing your eyes for a brief moment before opening them again, sitting correctly and trying to stay attentive to whatever time was left from this class.

Usually, you didn't mind it but the fact that you had no friends with you in this period made this hour so much more boring. With your group of friends, you didn't have to worry about getting in trouble for dozing off (something you rarely did) or getting lost in thought, something, that despite your best efforts, was happening quite a lot more.

Doodling while doing that, was not as common as your daydreaming, but drawing actual, well proportioned sketches was something completely weird, that despite your ever growing hatred towards the quirk, was becoming more and more ocurrent. The first few times were a bit more easier to explain, the fame that the killer had gotten in the school, mixed with the fear and the stupid stories going around made the excuses more believable, you didn't draw him because you wanted, you just sort of did... and it actually always happened to be Samantha's version, much to your dismay.

A much more realistic version, in your opinion, still, not believable enough.

But with the weeks passing and a month after the news had settled down, drawing the infamous killer was just weird as it is (you didn't need to gain a reputation as a fangirl), if people asked you why you still kept on drawing him and your answer was the truthful one, they would look at you as if you were losing it. Which, quite frankly, you began to feel like it was the case.

                "-She returned, and the vow was carried out."

The bell rang just after the sister had finished reading. Picking up your bag, you made your way out of the classroom and out into the halls. Your head turned both ways, finding that the other students were almost being dismissed out of their classrooms. You wasted no time and set yourself to marching straight into your next class, glad that it was P.E.

You tried to always avoid the hall traffic before each class. The amount of girls that stood outside in the halls to speak was ridiculous. You had made the grave mistake of actually waiting for the other students to get out of the classroom before you did that, which ended up in being about ten minutes late to your first class. Not a good way to impress your teachers on the first day, but you'd beg to differ.

You made a beeline towards your locker, the sound of chatter slowly becoming more and more noticeable as they echoed out throughout the halls. Finding your locker, you quickly set the combination and with a satisfying click, opening the lock and opening the cold metal door, you opened it. There weren't much things inside, a mirror, a rosary and some candles.

You made a mental note to come pick those up later to set them in the altar at the school's chapel, it was your turn anyways.

Making some space in your locker, you quickly put your bookbag inside it, locking it with the lock before jogging towards your P.E class, trying to evade and moving swiftly in between the moving masses that head your opposite direction. Somewhere along your walk, you had found one of your friends, Karmelia, and smiled at her, a clear invitation to join you in your walk. Her next class was just somewhere near the gym.

You could use the small talk in the way there, "Hey, how was math?"

She let out a small groan, rolling her eyes and adjusting her bookbag, "It was torture. Seriously! I don't understand why we need it!"

You let out a snicker, "Because without math we'd be idiots."

                "Not idiots, [Name]. Uncivilized, that is the right word." She scolded you, holding one finger up and raising her head slightly, mimicking the voice of sister Johan. You blew air out of your nose, an attempt to not blow out into full laughter.

                "A lady must not speak so vulgarly, God did not give you that mouth to spew out nonsense-"

                "It is to speak out His word to those who need enlightenment. That is one way to reach His kingdom. I know." You finished, punching her arm slightly when she snorted.

Despite the attempts at trying to make the time between the two of you to last any longer, you could both see your destinations right in front of you. With a small wave and a fist bump, the two of you parted. It took you a couple of seconds to enter the locker room, having to change first into your gym clothes, you in fact... you just didn't feel like taking P.E right now.

You liked doing sports, that's something you won't be denying. The thing was, that a month ago, new rules had been set to make all of the students safer. The nuns had tried to cover it up as some sort of new mechanism they were trying out, they said it would be taken off if it failed. They didn't specify much after that and would not answer anymore questions on the subject, which really, only fueled the other girl's beliefs into knowing that something was horribly wrong and the killer was an actual thing.

Maybe still is.

Some of the rules had been that row call was to be done in each class, it wasn't something that was usually done because no student in the school skipped out in their classes, usually if they didn't attend, they were either sick or slept-in. Now, it was obligatory to attend before the bell for the next period ended. Going outside was no longer allowed after 6pm and any wandering around the halls after 8 pm were banned. Any student found outside of their bedrooms after curfew would be suspended.

Drastic measures, that while you and many others found unnecessary. You couldn't help but thank God that at least the nuns were doing something up until the killer was caught.

P.E was no exception, the school had a big field just for that whole class, but now you were all reduced to using the gym. That while big enough to not be uncomfortable to practice at least five different sports at the same time, was not the same as being outside where the wind hit your face and the sun bathed you in warm rays of light. The gym lacked that sort of atmosphere, which made the hour quite boring in your opinion.

Stretching, running laps around the gym then playing volleyball, only to be left a ten-minute break to do whatever the students wanted, and you could tell that today would uneventful. The small talk the girls had initiated was boring and despite yourself, you found yourself walking around the red line that was on the floor, circling around the gym in a steady pace, eyes staring at your feet as you took step after step. You were barely aware of your surroundings.

Next thing you know, it's already your last class and the bell has already rung. Your feet move and your body follows and you watch as you head towards your locker, take out your bookbag and the candles and make your way towards the chapel. It's almost 6pm and you need to hurry. However, once you set foot outside and you're walking towards the chapel, do you realize just how much you missed being outside.

Ever since the rules had been set, you hadn't bothered being outside. It's not like you used to wander around before, but ever since you were prohibited from going outside, being right there, outside with the setting sun and the lonely sound of the wind and the movement of the leafs, it felt right... it felt actually wrong.

You couldn't tell if you loved it or not.

                "I'd better get this over with... don't wanna stay outside for long." you muttered to yourself, speeding up your pace up until you were in front of the church. Opening the old, wooden doors you automatically made the sign of the cross with your free hand. Entering the place before closing the door softly behind you.

An eerie silence crept up your ears, but was dismissed by your awe at the building. You hadn't been here in the afternoons, usually every Sunday morning or every Saturday night. The daylight didn't exactly did wonders to the place, but the setting sun, the orange hues and the coloured mosaics all in one place, it made your mouth open slightly.

Placing your bookbag down in a nearby row of pews, you walked towards the altar. A frame in gold with roses and a rosary upon a wooden table, left with a small space for the candles to be lit up, you studied the altar for a bit, both candles seeming to weight a whole lot more now. You dug into your pocket, thankful for the skirts having them, before taking out a match and its box.

                "Alright... lemme-" You fumbled with the match to get it to light up, and managed to drop the candles. You watched it roll towards the ambo, groaning you walked towards it, bending down and almost getting back up.

The doors to chapel opened in a hurry, making a loud echo followed by frantic footsteps. Your eyes widened slightly, confusion on your face and you were about to stand up to see who had come in in such a rude way, but the screaming and sobbing managed to freeze you right in the spot. Just behind the abode, hiding your body. You listened carefully as the person, who you now realized is a girl (must be, there are no males nearby this school, not even the male teachers have such a feminine voice) managed to trip and fall. Letting out another sharp cry.

Your gut clenched.

Followed shortly after, the girl began to scream out for help and your heart froze, you wanted to help her out, something about her her voice was familiar, but it was all happening so fast. What was she running from? The chapel was too far away from the main building for her cries to be heard, only you could hear it and here you were, frozen up. Without not knowing what to do.

                " _Help!_ " She cried out, you could hear her trying to get up but then falling back down. You bit your lip, that's it! You were gonna help he-

                "Well! _there_ you are!" A gleefully voice called out and you went back to being frozen, however, this time, you could feel your hand clenching and the familiar feeling of fear overpowered you. A guy.

A guy had gotten inside the school.

                "P- _please_! let me go!" the girl sobbed, and it only took you a second to realize just who it was. "I-I swear! I won't turn y-you in! Just pleas-please! Don't hurt me!" She was crying louder this time, fear evident in her voice, she sounded pained.

Samantha.

                "Sam, Sam. Little Samantha." the guy cackled loudly, you could hear Samantha's sobbing increase. "I'm afraid I can't do that! You see, I hate having unwanted fans. I do not like people that watch my... works of art." The guy began to pace around the female, you could barely hear his footsteps. He seemed to walk with a bounce to his step.

The next sound was something you couldn't exactly tell what it was, however, Samantha yelped and tried to struggle, you could tell by the way she screamed, before the man said something that was almost drowned out by her screaming, but you heard it right anyways.

                "You see, it's funny... you thought that just because you're in a holy place you wouldn't be hurt." He scoffed, earning another high pitched scream from Samantha. "This is bullshit Samantha, real bullshit."

                "It was a long ti-time ago! Please!"

                "I don't give a shit!" He exclaimed the swear word extremely loudly, his voice gaining a darker tone. A small part of you thought about how disrespectful he was being, but that thought was overclouded by your fear. You hated yourself so much right now, you should be out there helping her. But you don't have anything,

It's a guy, a male, the opposite sex.

You gulped, you were going to be sick.

                "You thought I wouldn't remember you! You're that filthy little bitch that decided to call the fucking cops on me!" He began to scream, "Do you know how long I was in that shithole, Samantha? Do you? hmm?"

Samantha only sobbed.

                "Well, it's not fun being left to rot in your own fucking shit and piss! So I'm returning the favor!" His voice took a sudden change, and he began to laugh, a laugh that only belonged to that of a mad man. It sent shivers down your spine and before you knew it, you had been covering your mouth, eyes open as tears streamed down your chest. You could feel your body shaking slightly but tried to remain as quiet as possible.

You began praying.

Something you did when you were in a situation that you had no control over.

You tried to tune out the screams, the begs for mercy that came from the blonde. For God's sake! she's just two years younger than you!

                " _Go to sleep_."

You prayed throughout the screams and the wailing and the sound of something splattering on the floor, you prayed throughout the guy's maniacal laughing.

You prayed even after you heard Samantha gurgling in her own blood, you weren't that much of an idiot to not understand what was going on and what had just happened. You weren't an idiot, you weren't... you weren't.

It almost seemed like an eternity before the blonde's sounds stopped. And even then the guy hadn't stopped laughing. You heard a dull thud hit the marble floor before his laughter reduced into chuckling.

                "Rot in hell you fucking slut." You barely managed to catch what he said.

In the amount of time that had passed and the amount of time that you had to clear your mind, you realized that you needed to vomit, really badly. The smell of blood was getting to you. You didn't move however, in fear that the killer would notice your presence. You really hoped that he didn't decide to look around.

Then, just as that thought made it's way into your mind, you realized something that made your stomach drop.

You were stuck in the chapel, far away from the main building, with the body of a sweet girl who became close to you and her killer.

You could hear his footsteps coming your way.


	3. 03

Anxiety settled deeply into your stomach, blood rushing to your ears and oxygen was becoming something that was lacking in your system. Tears had gathered up in your [eye colour] eyes and the sound of footsteps were making you shake, ever so slightly, but the motion was still there. You couldn't help but try to swallow and calm yourself down, but the knot in your throat made it that much impossible.

You were dead, so so dead.

You blinked back the tears, screamed at your legs to move, they wouldn't budge. Not when the footsteps had ceased, not when you realized just how close he was to finding you out. It was a miracle that he hadn't yet, you were a nervous wreck, you were shaking and crying and the blood- God that smell, it was awful.

So you remained quiet, leaning your head back into the altar without making a single noise, you almost felt relieved when the guy stopped walking around and then you heard the creaking of the pews as he proceeded to sit in one of them, whatever was he doing still here, puzzled you but you fought the thoughts back.

Your best option was to wait, you concluded, and exactly that you did.

Except it wasn't as easy as you thought it would be, it might've been a couple of ten minutes before the smell of blood got somehow even stronger, the guy was now talking to himself about stuff you tuned out for the most part, most of his comments were about the girl, how he had wished she had put on much of a fight (he laughed here and that managed to get you back to shaking) and then began to throw his knife-

His bloodied knife.

Into nearby pews for about another twenty minutes before he grew bored. You waited even more after that, not wasting this time by trying to concentrate on a plan on how to get out, you took a peek from the corner, the doors were open, so free, so inviting. You told yourself to not look down, where your eyes could detect the puddle of blood but didn't reach quite down enough to see the body.

God, you were such a hopeless case. Would he find out you were here? He could totally be playing with you, luring you into a false sense of safety before scaring the crap out of you and ending your life. Or worse, whatever plans he had for Samantha (you recalled what he said about putting up more of a fight) would be done with you, the thought, you quickly shook away.

You almost missed it, thinking, the soft sound of his snoring. Your brows furrowed, was he sleeping? Should you go out? You bit your lip and peeked once more from your spot, the doors were open, they were so inviting. You were really tempted to just stand up and run away, you were sure that the last bell that rang before the doors to the dormitories were locked would ring in a couple of minutes. All you needed to do was run and not look back. Run and not look back-

The thing is, that thinking about it was easier said than done. It took almost all of your willpower to slowly stand up, legs wobbly and shaky and throat closing up, you were shaking like a leaf and slowly, made your way around the altar, one hand gripping to the side of the table, careful to not pull the altar cloth down with your grip. Your eyes scanned around the empty church before they settled on the killer.

You took a shaky breath, feeling every inch of your body being struck by ice.

He was exactly just like Samantha had described him, wearing nothing more but a white hoody, now caked in fresh blood but still not as white as it would've been once, when it wasn't covered in mud and dirt. His hair was jet black, a wild mess of knots that reached just above his shoulders, cut off most likely by his blade. His mouth, whatever leftover evidence of the carved up smile had slowly been erased, only leaving behind a pale pink line that stretched from ear to ear, you almost thought that the black string he had were probably stitches.

Your heart, however, stopped and you almost took a startled step back, one hand going to cover your mouth with the oncoming gasp, when you caught sight of his eyes, wide and never blinking. Around the corners only a deep black that could have rivaled his hair's, icy blue orbs, glazed over, not exactly looking anywhere in particular. You would've almost thought that he was awake if it weren't for the steady breathing, the heaving of his chest was enough to confirm your thoughts.

That and the fact that he hadn't made a move to your presence was enough confirmation.

I just need to get away . With that thought in mind, you began to tiptoe carefully down the steps and into the hall, your eyes had been switching between watching your step, avoiding the body (you felt really guilty, but you wouldn't be able to claim her peace if you didn't make it out alive) and looking at the killer. That last bit though, you tried to not do a lot because it made your body freeze up. The last thing you needed in this situation.

You were half way through the hall, near where the body of the blonde laid, unmoving, the smell of blood managed to make you cringe and you looked away, hating how you felt your lip quiver at the sight, thankfully, she had been placed (dropped) downwards, your only view was that of her back. Her uniform was drenched in blood and you made sure to not step over her body, her legs and arms were sprawled out.

You took a deep breath, one look behind you, the guy still hadn't moved, one look forward and the door was so close.

brrring

Your eyes widened and you managed to lose your footing. You barely felt the fall, barely felt the blood on your hands and on your skirt, all you felt was a growing fear, the sound of the bell still ringing and the misery of the situation finally dawned on you. You had taken too long, the doors were going to be locked and you were still outside alone and-

Your breathing hitched, the ringing making your ears hurt and you slowly turned your head around, eyes wide and one single sentence managed to form coherently throughout the ringing. When your eyes locked with icy blue ones, eyes that held a mixture of different reactions, but one of them was something you could easily spot from a distance, rage.

_RUN_

You tried to stand up and quickly get away but the blood had become something so slippery that you only managed to fall back down again, this time on your stomach, your breathing was coming in short intakes of breaths and your eyes were watering up. You began to scream when out of the corner of your eyes you watched the killer take steps towards you, the glint of his knife made adrenaline kick in.

You didn't even know where all of the energy came from, but it was soon a discarded thought as you quickly crawled away, which turned into standing up and ditching your shoes, screaming as you ran away, the mixture of blood and tears and the smell was making you dizzy, the blurry vision wasn't helping at all.

You didn't know when the bell had stopped ringing, you were more concentrated on the footsteps behind you, following, gaining speed. On the way the rocks and pebbles and sticks managed to sting your feet, the socks doing nothing to help out, your legs were aching burning. Heart thumping erratically, even when you felt his hand close around your shirt, you still kept on running.

                "Leave me alone!" You managed to shout out, the sentence though, you weren't sure if it came out correctly due to the sobbing.

Next thing you knew, you had been pushed with an incredible force, to the ground, you instantly shielded your face from the impact with the ground and began to thrash around when the guy settled his weight on top of your body. You began to scream, your throat raw from all of the noise and despite all of that, you couldn't get him off.

_Oh my god hes going to kill me run runrunrunrunrunrun-_

You felt a sharp object being pressed to the back of your neck and your body went rigid instantly. Although that happened, the sobs still continued to be a thing and despite yourself, you were still mumbling out apologies, begging to not be killed. Funny how Samantha was doing the exact same thing a while back and yet she was killed anyways.

Except she had someone witnessing her death, knowing why she died, while you didn't have anyone.

You yelped when the guy growled, gripping a fistful of your head before pulling, making your neck twist uncomfortable to look at him. In the night, the moon casted a shadow down on his figure, leaving most of his completely blocked by the shadows, except that even if the dark, even through your cut face and dirty and smelly, you could make out his eyes and a melancholy pang hit your chest.

His eyes looked identically as to how you had drawn him. No- He was a carbon copy of your drawings.

You had to be dreaming, that was the only logical explanation...

                "How long?" He asked, his voice was low, guttural sounding and made your body cold.

You didn't reply however, your eyes no longer focusing on his gaze but the knife that was still held against your throat, you were trying to avoid swallowing, in case he would decide to cut through your skin, right now.

Your lack of reply only made his grip harden and you whined, again, he asked and you couldn't do anything else but answer. "I-I was trying- to... an hour... an hour."

He seemed to be debating something before his lips twitched and he began to chuckle, "Disgusting."

You said nothing.

                "This is so fucking funny, you were there watching all along, hearing that little bitch screaming for mercy, begging for someone to help out." He stood up from your body, and you managed to get as much air as possible before he was pulling you upwards, your legs felt like jelly and you almost leaned into him. The knife, you remembered.

                "-She was crying out for someone and you were there, people are so selfish and disgusting when it comes to their own lives heh." The knife was replaced by his hand, he grabbed your chin and leaned forward, you tried to get away but when he pressed the knife to your side and he muttered a warning against doing so, you stood still.

Even though your body was screaming at you to get away, he was touching you.

                "So, _doll_." He grinned, "I wanna hear you scream for mercy, beg for it. And I might just think about ending your life in a less painful way."

_get away get away getawaygetawaygetawagetawaygetawaygetawagetaway-_

You don't know what compelled you to not follow his orders, but you found yourself shaking your head in denial, tears trailing down your cheeks and for a moment you swore you saw a flash of confusion across his beautiful eyes (don't think about his eyes, oh God don't think they're beautiful.) before he wrinkled his nose and his lips quirked downwards.

                "Wrong answer, doll." His grip tighter on your jaw and you whimpered when the knife dug even more into you side, it had cut through your uniform, you could feel the cold blade on your stomach. "Try again, c'mon."

You don't know what compelled you to do what you did next, but when you opened your mouth and he was expecting an answer from you, you spit out. Hitting him straight in the eyes.

The guy began to scream out obscenities and both hands freed you from his grip. You tried to not waste anytime, despite your legs feeling like jelly, but you ran, far away, you weren't even sure it you were headed the right way. You just wanted to get away from him, away from his touch.

You couldn't handle the thought of going through that sort of experience again. Not now, not ever.


	4. 04

The first thing you noticed was the sound of chirping birds and the sound of moving leaves as the wind made its path through the air. Consciousness was slowly being regained and the pain that came with it did too, your body felt unusually heavy, too heavy. You tried to move one arm only to be rewarded with pain, stiffened muscles, you let out a small groan and decided to wait a little more, your mind was all a blurry mess.

You think you passed out again, because this time when you actually did wake up, you had bolted up straight and snapped your head to both sides, ignoring the screamed warnings that your brain sent out to you. You could feel your heart pumping, fast, cold sweat gathered on your forehead as your breathing tried to even out.

You were momentarily blind, the sun was too bright. One hand went to cover your eyes but you stopped midtrack, eyes widening slightly when you noticed the dried blood on your palm, on your [skin colour] arm, it was fully covered in it. You instantly lowered your hand, and blinked, looking around, still disoriented. There was a ringing on your ears, and you felt like your body couldn't even support itself.

The growing fear that was beginning to affect your breathing, your thoughts, only made your ears pick up every single sound around you. You could hear the chatter of girls nearby, incoherent words that didn't actually meant much to you. You opened your mouth to speak, to call out, but instead found yourself moving your mouth to say absolutely nothing.

God, you felt sick, lost, so confused.

What happened? Why were you covered in blood?

You groaned, brought your knees up to your chest, not caring that your skirt rode up, the material was also soaked in blood, albeit now dried, it was crusty, and the smell still lingered. Your hid your head in between your arms and your legs and took deep breaths through your mouth, just to not smell the blood. You tried to regain memories of what had happened last night, you were out... That much you recall.

However, anything after it was a blur and thinking about it made your head pound loudly. After trying for what felt like an eternity you gave up. There was no point in trying to remember, the blood however made you inwardly cringe and worry. You checked to see if the blood belonged to you, a logical part of your brain dwelled against it, if you had lost that much blood you wouldn't even be alive, but that only managed to set a whole lot of alarms in your brain. If the blood didn't belong to you, then to who exactly?

Your only thought right now, was to get towards the main building. From what you gathered you weren't far away, actually, you were pretty sure that the gym was one of the buildings off into the distance. You tried to stand up only to let out a whimper when you felt a shock run from your leg towards your whole body, you hissed slightly and looked at it.

It had swollen up. You frowned, biting your lip. You hadn't noticed that.

Still, you wanted to get away from here, the single thought of staying in the grass in this certain spot, covered from head to toe in blood, with your feet hurting so much and socks dirtied, you were going to lose it. You also could feel the vague sensation of eyes on you, but the moment you looked back and were only met with trees, you discarded the thought.

                "Well... this is going to hurt-" you mumbled, and almost had a panic attack when a familiar bell rung out. You lost your footing for a second there but managed to regain your balance, hissing slightly at the pain but paying no mind to it.

You were more focused on getting to the main building, the bell that had run either signaled the dismissal of the students (what time was it anyways? were school hours over? was it lunch time?) or a period change, either way, it made you wonder just how long had you been outside, your body felt awfully cold, and how come no one had been looking for you.

It was probably Saturday then, you thought, usually if someone was missing from their assigned class, teachers and nuns alike would make a search around the school's grounds. For whatever reasons they did that... you couldn't recalled.

You shook the thought away and began to make your steady, albeit slow, pace towards the main building, ignoring how with each step you took, it felt like you were digging blades into your skin. Your dirtied socks had a few holes in them, and every single little thing you felt, the small rocks, the grass, the ground. You however, didn't mind it.

For some odd reason, you found yourself looking back every once in a while, all of your senses where extremely high and you couldn't help the feeling of being observed, it made your hands shake and your pace quicken a bit, despite the searing pain of your leg. It wasn't until you neared the most closest building and that you could put all of your weight into the wall, and used it as support to get to the other side, that you actually felt at ease.

Your body had been rigid all the walk towards this place. Your [eye colour] eyes observed around, the front yard was devoid of life. You concluded that everyone was either having lunch or somewhere else. The students were most likely eating, probably, it wasn't like there was anything important to do on Saturdays, however, seeing the front yard so empty only made the feeling of being watched increase.

Taking a shaky breath, you continued to make your way towards the main building, ignoring the feeling of being watched, ignoring the feeling of confusion, ignoring the cold sweat and the pain. You almost wanted to sing halleluyah when you reached the steps and slowly began to walk them upwards until you reached the crystal doors, opening them and walking inside.

Once inside the familiar halls and the colder temperature the place had. You couldn't help but smile contentedly to yourself. You tried to listen to any sound of life around the halls, but you weren't given anything. Calling out for someone wouldn't prove useful, for all you knew your voice could get lost in the vast halls before it reached anyone.

                "Where's the nurse's office...." You muttered to yourself and began to limp, biting your lip when you moved your leg to an awkward position, before walking down the halls, your only companion being that of your footsteps.

It wasn't until you rounded a corner and bumped into someone, making you fall to your butt and cursing rather harshly, which earned a startled gasp from the woman, did your eyes open dramatically wide and your gaze landed on Sister Johan.

She seemed as equally surprised as you were, now, whether it was because of your crude language or your current appearance was unbestknown to you. However, the way she seemed to be conflicted in between being relieved or scared, didn't manage to be comprehended by your brain. She had begun to speak, you could see her lips moving but the words didn't reach your ears.

It wasn't until you tilted your head to the side, [hair colour] caked-blood strands of hair following suit, did she seemed to sigh deeply. Before snapping her fingers, she seemed distressed.

                "[Name], what in The Lord's name happened to you?" She began to help you stand up, for which you were grateful for. You told her about your leg and she simply clicked her tongue, her eyebrows were knitted in worry. The two of you began to walk towards the nurse's office. "You're covered in blood! are you hurt?"

She almost seemed to want to check your body but you shook your head, "I... I woke up like this."

Sister Johan almost stopped talking, an abrupt movement that made you hiss out. The nurse's office was so close to!

                "Woke up... like this? What were you doing outside young lady? If the blood is not yours then whose is it?"

                "I... don't remember, I just did." You mumbled, but the sister clearly held you, the halls were empty and devoid of sound, everything you said was caught by her ears. You didn't have time to answer the other question before her face lit up with some sort of realization.

                "The blood must belong to that bear Sister Amanda found outside this morning." She mused to herself and you frowned. Bear? No- "Are you sure you don't remember anything?"

You shook your head and the sister sighed, opening the door to the nurse's office before making you walk towards the bed they had there. There was another sister here, this one you could barely recall her name, however upon seeing you, she instantly stood up and began to whisper something into Sister Johan's ear. You were too tired to even bother.

                "She says she doesn't remember how she got this way, either way, please tend to her." And with that, Sister Johan left the room. Leaving you to fidget as the other sister observed you. She almost seemed like she didn't know what to do with you.

You opened your mouth to speak but closed it when she walked towards you. "Are you injured anywhere?"

You shook your head.

She nodded, "Alright, usually I'd tell you to go take a shower, but it seems your leg is swollen up. So if you could please remove your uniform so I can get a better inspection, it'd be great."

You made no protest to the request and set yourself to remove the clothing, the skirt proved to be difficult but she helped you out. Now left in nothing but your undergarments, you instantly covered yourself with your arms, not because you cared about her seeing your body, but because the room seemed colder now.

                "Do you sleepwalk?" She asked as she began to inspect your body, she seemed to linger on the side of your stomach for a bit before moving to your leg.

                "No." You answered, feeling quite baffled by the question.

                "Funny how you got all of this blood then, I mean, it certainly must belong to that bear that was found near the woods- Where did you wake up exactly?" Her amber-eyes shot up to lock with yours. She seemed like one of the youngest Sisters you've seen, you almost wanted to ask her how old she was.

                "Um, just outside the gym building."

                "I see, well-" She stood up and began to rummage for some items to clean your leg with and some gauze. "It might not make sense now, but your memory should come back to you later. Sister Johan will be asking you questions, going out after curfew is dangerous. You know there are wild animals around."

You almost wanted to protest, you were sure that you didn't recall an animal.

                "What day's today?" You asked out of the blue and the Sister blinked, clearly surprised, before going to clean your leg.

                "Saturday, love."

You mentally sighed in relief, you had today and tomorrow to sort your thoughts out. Especially those that seemed to be clouded, no matter how much you tried, it didn't seem like you could even remember what they were. But what you were being told, it just didn't make any sense... it didn't click.

                "You know, another girl came in last week just like you had. Woke up outside, some cuts, nothing bad, but she didn't have all of the blood on her."

You blinked, "Oh?"

                "Yeah, I think her name was Samantha?" You swallowed, Samantha... You saw her last night.

                "I uh... where is she right now?" You asked, curiously, trying to hide the evident fear your voice was almost willing to give away. You were thankful that she wasn't looking at you. You were a terrible liar and even worse at hiding your emotions, your eyes gave it away easily.

                "Her parents came to pick her up yesterday afternoon. They were no longer happy with the education here."

You remained silent after that. A part of your brain screamed that that was not what happened... it couldn't have been what happened, but you didn't know what happened. The story you were being told, it just didn't feel real. But you didn't know what was real, either way, it was what made sense, and you attached yourself to the idea.

It was the most logical explanation. Maybe you did sleepwalk, maybe there was a bear. Samantha had been acting strange lately and asked her parents to change her from this school. You ignored your brain and the images it was sending, obviously what you were hearing was right.

You didn't deny the pills you were given to stop your 'sleepwalking' problem. Nor did you deny the ones that the nun gave you to help you sleep, it was after you had cleaned up and had put on a fresh pair of clothes. She had laid you down on the bed that was on the room and told you to swallow those pills, they would help you sleep.

Right now, you needed it.


	5. 05

Rough hands covered your mouth harshly, nails digging into your cheeks as you felt your arms being bent back by another pair of hands, cold tears and snot covered your face and your crying was not to be heard, muffled by the hand that covered your bitten-bloodied lips, matching the blood that trickled down your forehead. A hot wave of fury ran up your body when you felt another pair of hands grope you, rough and shamelessly. Despite the tears and the laughter that made your knees weak, you bit hard into the man's hand. 

You ignored how your tongue could taste the sweat and the dirt, the salty taste of his palm, mixed with the irony taste of the blood, your blood, held. You didn't stop even when he shouted, trying to pry his hand away from your grip with your teeth, sinking deeply into his palm, you weren't sure if the blood you tasted was from his or yours, it didn't matter.

You felt fists began to collide with your head, a sharp pain that made you wince and close your eyes when the man who's hands you're biting, begins to claw at your face, his dirty and crooked nails almost too close to your eyes, applying more pressure into the biting, the man began to trash and shout, incoherent things that didn't reach your ears, that is until you felt the hands behind you twist your arms and a foot harshly set on your back, kicking you.

Your mouth opened as the air in your lungs was knocked out, your lower back was once again hit with the foot, harshly, making you cry out and bend forward, your blood-caked hair was sweaty in a mess that hung to cover your face. Another foot collided with your side, the cold and damp sole of it hitting your [Skin colour] skin, and you realized just how naked you felt.

The kicking didn't stop, not when you started to cry and plead for the treatment to stop, you didn't even realize the hands holding your arms captive behind your back had long agone left you, only to be replaced by the kicks to your stomach, you couldn't even tell how many of them were, five, six, eight feet-

You bit your tongue when one of the foots connected with your temple, eyes widening in a blurry vision, you watched as your body fell to the side, the glass shards underneath your body digging into your already bruised skin. Your head connected with the cold concrete with a sickening crack, the blood began to obscure your vision and you closed your eyes as the hands began to grab you once more. One pair tugged at your wrists, holding them above your head, leaving you with nothing to cover yourself.

"[Name]-"

You sat up with a jolt from the bed, instantly scooting back until your head and back met the cold wall, your heart was beating too fast and your breathing was uneven, harsh, fast and it made you feel dizzy. The room felt too cold, it was too dark too, you thought with an alarming speed. However, your body was frozen and tears began to mix with the cold sweat that had pooled all around you. It took your various minutes, but once your could move your feet, you realized how badly you were shaking.

Taking a deep breath, you brought the covers to cover your shaking form, [eye colour] orbs glancing to the side to check what time it is. The room was still dark and was only illuminated by the full moon, there was no snoring or any sort of other noise, reminding you of how alone you were right now. You almost wanted to sob, almost.

4:57 am.

You closed your eyes and slumped more against the wall, your eyes felt heavy and your body screamed for rest, the thought of going back to your bed and slowly but surely going back to dreaming, hopefully one that didn't involve flashbacks, was already tempting enough. Your brain however, was full awake and you knew there was no way in heck you were going to go back to sleep.

"It was just a dream... just a dream-a dream." You muttered, rubbing your wrist unconsciously, your head turned to the side of the room. The room was a small one, adorned in a pastel colour and various portraits of your family hung around, one of them consisted of your favorite bible verse (this one you have learned by heart, always managed to settle you down) and another one of your old best friend, from your hometown. You kinda missed them, now that you thought about it.

There was a small area with a rug and two bean-bag chairs and another bed at the other side of the room, though this one, laid unoccupied, your former roommate having asked for a change of bedroom because your nightmares were plain out terrifying her. You... you couldn't exactly blame her. Ever since you had been notified of Samantha's parents taking her out of the school, several other parents had too, you had begun to have night terrors, some of them have had you screaming bloody-murder at ungodly hours of the morning, one of them having been last week, when you woke up the whole block.

Apparently you had begun to bang against the door to your room, screaming and crying, to be 'let go'. The nurse had said it was probably due to the incident of having woken up outside the school building with no memory of what had happened. The thing was, that you couldn't recall anything, other than waking up with scratches, cuts and sometimes, at night, you felt as if hands would lightly trace your body until they rested at your neck and they squeezed, you would wake up to find your roommate sleeping. 

Not to mention that there was an unsettling nagging at the back of your mind whenever you were told about Samantha's departure. There was something not clicking to it, and somehow, you felt that your nightmares had something to do with it. They were a blur though.

You bit your lip, the nightmare you just had... it was fake. There was no nightmare. That had to be the explanation, you glanced to the side, to find the window open. Furrowing your eyebrows, you leaned towards the nightstand and turned on the lamp. Closing your eyes quickly when the room became too bright for you. Once you were alright, you rubbed your eyes, ignoring the way your wrist hurt.

"That's weird... did I fall asleep with the window open?" You sighed, taking the covers off of your form and slowly swinging your legs to the side of the bed, shivering slightly at the cold floor under your feet. Stretching, you stood up and headed towards your dresser, where a translucent bottle with white pills inside stood, taking the bottle, you shook it and sat down on the bean-bag chair, examining the pills.

They hadn't been helping you much, in fact, they didn't even help you sleep. You would've told the nurse about it, after all, she had said that if they didn't help to sleep that you should come back so she could give you something else. That was a while ago, and you might sound paranoid, but you just didn't feel safe taking sleeping pills, it had something to do with your hometown. Just looking at them, caused your stomach to do flips, an emotion you hadn't felt in a while, always bubbled up and you tried to swallow your anxiety down.

The single thought of knowing you would be knocked out, not know who comes in and out or if things are happening, frightened you to no end. Especially now, that you were left alone in the room. It had gotten to the point of not sleeping well, something always woke you up, if it wasn't the window open and the cold air of the night freezing you to death (you really should start to cover yourself up more with you blankets), then it were the nightmares, sometimes a shadow out of the corner of your eye. Something falling, the feeling of someone touching you-

You scoffed. Bringing the bottle up to your eye level, you shook the pills. 

"Probably side effects of these." You commented to yourself, shaking the pills once more. It was until that moment that your eyes moved to your wrist, the one that felt weird, and you felt your breathing hitch when you spotted the noticeable hand marks on your [skin colour] skin, they were clear, how hadn't you noticed-

A soft click snapped you out of your thoughts, whimpering, you dropped the pills and watched the bottle roll towards a nearby wall.Your heart was beginning to pick up speed as you realized that something had just been closed. You turned your head towards the door and expected someone to walk in, probably your roommate, except that when the time went on and there was no other noise did you mentally slap yourself.

You glanced towards the clock, 5:34am, who would be awake at this hour? Other than you that is.

Still, not a moment later, you heard even more sounds, kinda of like footsteps, it took you a minute to realize that they were from the rooftop, your breathing hitched. Someone was walking in the rooftop, a burglar? Your first thought was to turn off the lights, and you stood up to do exactly that.

Whoever it was outside, could probably see your lights on, the thought alone, made you shiver. As you walked past your closed window, you noticed just how warm the room had gotten. As you almost neared your bed, you stopped in your tracks. 

You hadn't closed the window.

There was also a white paper, torn, stuck on the window.

Curiosity... well, it got the best of you, despite the fact that your mind was telling you to not get it. You walked back, instead of reading the paper, you opened your window and grabbed the white paper, something was scrawled in it, however, you weren't paying attention to it. Sticking your face out of the window, you looked around.

The main yard was empty, only illuminated by the moon, which was almost retreating back into the mountains. If you looked close enough, you could easily spot the oncoming change of colours from a dark blue to soft oranges and pinks. Your [eye colour] orbs observed the place, and when you didn't spot anything, then you turned to look upwards, to the side, where the rooftop could be easily seen.

You did, spot something now.

Rather, someone, sitting on the edge, their gaze was somewhere else. Due to the poor lightning, you could only make out the figure and the short hair. Something struck out as familiar, however your confusion and curiosity were overpowering that feeling of recognition, and despite yourself, you found the idea of someone else, probably a student, being awake at this hour a little bit comforting. That meant that you wouldn't spend the rest of the morning alone.

"H-Hey! You, um..." You called out with a small smile on your face, you watched as the figure went rigid before slowly turning to face you. The smile you held was quickly turned downwards and fear instantly gripped you.

You've seen those icy-blue eyes before, they were so big, wide, there were a lot of emotions going on on them and you slowly wanted to back away, especially when he waved at you and your lip trembled. Oh My God...

You mentally cried out when you realized that your body wouldn't move and your eyes wouldn't stop looking at him. He seemed oddly calm, hadn't made a move to do something to you, you quickly glanced down to see his grip on something, probably a knife and a single thought came into mind.

Did the mark on your wrist belong to his hand? That would explain the open window.

You felt sick just thinking about it.

Your gaze slowly trailed down to your wrist, in the same hand, the paper.

His chuckled snapped you out of your thoughts. When you looked towards him, you noticed he was now fully facing you, legs crossed and hands behind his back to support himself, you were praying he fell off from the edge. He seemed to have understood your gaze on your wrist, because he gave you the biggest grin he could muster with the stitches, and you swore you saw one of them snap and blood trickle, he didn't notice or simply didn't care.

Your hands were shaking, especially when he raised one hand, and pointed at you. The grin still present, then, he lowered the finger towards the note, you didn't know why, but you were compelled to do what he had said. You didn't want to aggravate him. Opening the paper, you slowly read the neat calligraphy on the paper, written in ink, you noticed (and wondered how this guy, who seemed so so familiar and it gave you the creeps not knowing why, had such neat handwriting) that there were three simple words on it.

Go to sleep.

You looked towards his spot and noticed he was no longer there.


	6. 06

You didn't get any sleep after what happened in the early hours of the morning.

It wasn't you exaggerating either, you hadn't actually managed to lay down and try to saviour whatever hours you had left until school curfew began and the sound of the nuns knocking on each and every door would wake you up. But it didn't. After you had been staring into the empty spot for what seemed like an eternity, you had been shaking and the paper you held in your hand had been crumpled and torn by your hands. The remnants of it left forgotten on the side of your bed --you contemplated burning it-- and you sitting on your bed, waiting until the hours went by.

And that they did.

You had trouble concentrating while you were getting ready, albeit slower than usual, your eyes were feeling extremely heavy and the sound of footsteps had been left as a track played on repeat on your brain, it was painful enough to cringe because of the room, it was so empty, so devoid of life and so, so quiet. You couldn't stand it anymore, even if you knew that your brain was just replying the scene --and his face, it was embedded in your eyes-- for the sake of it, you had changed, grabbed your bookbag and debated on whether or not to bring your sketchpad.

After what felt like an eternity, you didn't bring it with you. A part of you, a small one, knew why exactly you didn't want to bring it. You were actually scared of finding the old sketches of the killer --yes, it was a killer, it was him,-- you later realized, when walking down the stairs towards the main yard as you headed to the cafeteria, thankfully, alone. Your group of friends were either still getting ready for school hours or were already inside, eating.

You didn't exactly feel like eating, you also didn't feel like walking the main yard alone, even if there were a couple of other students that with their laughter and chatter managed to ease a little the cold-morning air, it helped as a sort of reminder that you weren't alone. That maybe the feeling of being watched was just your sleep deprived-mind. You hadn't been sleeping well despite your protests of claiming you had been getting actual, real, sleep. You always woke up, nightmares or no nightmares, and then sleep was hard to come by.

You ran a single hand through messy [hair colour] hair, sighing deeply. You'd have to remind yourself to go check up on the nice nurse and ask her for a stronger medicine, or pills, to help out with your problems. 

When you finally reached the doors and extended your hand out to grab the handle and open it, your eyes flickered briefly to your wrist, feeling sort of at ease that the mark had long been gone. Then you actually began to question if it was just a trick of the eyes and light that managed to create the mark, it was a better thinking option than the one that seemed logical but at the same time it didn't, it actually managed to unsettle you to think that someone was inside your room. 

"Um, we kinda need to go places and you're in the way." An unknown voice behind you snapped you out of your thoughts. With a small cringe, you looked behind your shoulder, meeting two girls who seemed rather un-amused by you blocking the way. Muttering a small apology, you took a step to the side and opened the door for them, ignoring how they seemed to stare at you before snickering and walking inside the main building.

You decided to remain outside, using your foot to hold the door in place while you rubbed your other arm, eyes locked onto the pair until they turned a corner and the only thing left to be heard was the sound of their footsteps and --rather loud-- laughter. You decided to wait a couple of seconds more before entering the building, keeping a slow walk towards the cafeteria.

The fact that the halls weren't as crowded as any other morning made you feel quite confused, out of place. The last few weeks have been like this actually, and while you actually didn't care for that certain feeling a while back, it was certainly bothering you now. You've walked the same halls for years now, done the same routine countless times, heck, you've worn the same uniform, gone to the same classes and talked to the same group of people ever since day one!

So why did you feel so out of place?

Frustration began to quickly cloud your vision, and before you knew it, you were wiping tears that began to roll down your cheeks. Stopping right in your tracks, in the middle of the empty hall you began to furiously try to wipe the tears, they kept on flowing freely now and that single thing managed to upset you even further. Biting your lip you shook your head and took a deep breath.

Alright, calm down. There isn't a need to have an existential crisis right in the middle of the hallway. You sighed, your throat felt like it was burning. Maybe crying could wait for later, you had classes to attend to and the single thought of having people worry about your being right now was the last thing you needed in your mind.

Heading towards the cafeteria, you actually began to have second thoughts. Just behind those doors you could hear the idle chatter of all of the students and a strange pull towards the place had begun to invade your thoughts, however, your fists clenched and un-clenched, your eyes averting to the end of the hall. You suppose you could skip breakfast, you weren't up to it anyways, and going there would only arise questions and conversations that you at the moment didn't feel like answering or simply ignoring.

Knowing your group of friends, they wouldn't drop the subject.

With one swift movement, you turned around and began to walk towards the nurse's office. Once reaching it, knocking on the door before it opened, revealing the nice nun from before. Her expression changed from serene to a confused --dare you say also kinda frightened?-- expression before she ushered you inside and told you to take a seat. Which you did, and realized once you were sitting down just how heavy your body felt.

"I take it you didn't have a goodnight's sleep?" The nun asked and you turned to look at her, she had held on to your bag and was carefully placing it somewhere where it wouldn't be disturbed. You raised a single eyebrow, shooting her a questioning look.

"What makes you think that?" You asked, genuinely curious to know her answer. Now that you thought about it, you didn't exactly know her name, you felt your cheeks warm at the thought. You've been here a couple of times already but you still haven't learned her name --has she even said it?--

You watched as she walked into another room before coming out a couple of seconds later with a silver tray with two teacups, you noticed how steam was coming out of both of them. The nun proceeded to put the tray in one of the counters before going back into the other room before coming out with a foldable table, sat it in front of you before putting the silver tray atop of it. You didn't utter a single word, not until she spoke.

"Well, you look like you haven't slept in ages-" this is actually true, you shifted on your seat, "-and it's a day off, you're not supposed to be wearing this uniform." She offered you a sympathetic smile and your mind reeled back to the events prior to coming here. So that's why those two other students were looking at you weirdly.

You let out a whine before hiding your face behind your hands. Of course, and to think that you were going to walk into the cafeteria wearing the wrong uniform! On these days, students have a certain uniform that is comfortable to wear throughout the day without breaking the dressing code. Gosh, you felt awfully stupid right now.

"Ugh, I was gonna make a fool out of myself..." you muttered, lowering your hands from your face before looking at the nun, she had been holding one of the cups and was handing it to you. You reluctantly took it and immediately recognized the smell, chamomile. She usually made this certain tea whenever you were here, it somehow managed to get you sleepy.

You frowned, were you actually that bad looking? Surely you couldn't have missed so much sleep to look so bad, could you? You were almost tempted to ask for a mirror but instead brought the cup to your lips, blowing a bit to cool the beverage before taking a small sip, which grew into a full gulp of it. It tasted surprisingly good, more so than before. 

"You had breakfast right?" She asked and you shook your head, lowering your eyes when she frowned, clearly disappointed. However, she didn't ask any more questions, something for which you were extremely grateful. 

You actually spent the whole morning there in a comfortable silence --at least to you it was-- with Sister Abigail, whose name you learned when you spotted a hand-sewn pillow with her name in it, she had asked what you thought about it and it was actually well made, which led to asking her about her past and other nonsense. The only time she ever asked about your situation was to know more about your current dilemma to which you actually spilled out the fact that the pills had no effect in your sleep whatsoever, she gave you a new batch and told her to tell ASAP if the pills didn't work.

You refrained from telling her about the occurrences of early in the morning after she had asked you about having any sort of hallucinations, you lied, because maybe what you had seen was actually a product of your imagination and your sleep deprived mind.

At least that's what you've been telling yourself for the last hour. After having left the place, you had been playing with the bottle of pills in your skirt pocket for what seemed like an eternity. You had gotten weird looks from the other students as you walked around the front yard, sitting down in random spots and just staring into the sky in deep thought. Your friends had actually managed to find you --not a hard task, seeing as the uniform you were wearing was extremely different from the others-- and you chatted a bit with them, as expected, you did get the comments on the bags underneath your eyes.

One of them had handed you a mirror and when you took a sharp intake of breath and you felt your cheeks warm up and your friend's laughing when they saw your expression, did you think about taking a nap. Heck, the day was still young and sleeping for a couple of hours before dinner didn't sound like much of a bad idea. 

There was even one point where you asked any of them if they for some reason heard footsteps in the morning, apparently none of them had. So you quickly dropped the subject and tried to be social for what little amount you had before you grew bored and you were beginning to doze off every now and then, your friends had helped you walk towards your room --joking about how they were worried about you falling asleep on the way back to your room--

You didn't protest because even though they were joking around, you could clearly tell just how worried they were about you. A part of you felt loved, actually liked the fact that they cared, that they tried to get you to be comfortable, a bitter thought managed to settle itself into these thoughts and you realized that these people here actually cared, not like the ones from your hometown. You'd rather not recall those memories, not right now, hopefully never.

That was an hour ago, now you laid in bed in your uniform, not bothering to change out of it, you were alone in the bedroom anyways. Bottle of pills just besides your bed, on your nightstand. You had been staring into the ceiling, the taste of the tea still present in your mouth. Grabbing the translucent-orange bottle, you popped open the lid and took one of the pills, looking at it your lips turned into a thin line.

"Well, here goes nothing." You swallowed the pill, cringing at the fact that you didn't have water.

 

When you came around once more, the first thing you noticed just how stiff your body was. You instantly deduced it was because of the fact that you had heard some commotion, it was a distant, barely recognizable sound, but your mind had registered it as sound made by something --you quickly threw the word someone away-- rattling. Someone was shaking something. 

You also came to realize that the room was lit up by your lamp and there was an extra weight in the corner of your bed. Standing up and scooting back, you rubbed the back of your neck as you let out a yawn, feeling as your muscles popped when you stretched. The rattling was still there, there was a pause, followed by the object stopping and then repeating the same action. Your vision was still fuzzy and your mouth opened to call Layla out on waking you up, however, something in your brain clicked and a cold shiver ran down your spine.

Layla had moved out a while back, the only one with the key to the bedroom was you-

"It's so funny how you need pills to sleep," a male voice spoke, a familiar one, and your eyes widened, "what? is the guilt eating you alive?" Then he chuckled.

You were almost tempted to scream, no, you wanted to scream, but seeing the black-haired male sitting so casually on your bed managed to make you so nervous, so afraid, your body wouldn't move. Your brain didn't want to move, you had caught sight of the weapon he had. It was almost as if he was taunting you, the knife laid right next to him, and his attention wasn't even focused on you. He was more focused on the pills, he threw the bottle in the air and caught it before it reached the floor.

"Say, [Name], is it helping you with those nightmares of yours?" That's when he turned to face you, completely ignoring the pills that fell to the floor with a dull clatter, followed by the sound of the contents spilling out. "Oops."

Your form began to shake and you bit your lip, your lungs ached to scream, your legs were feeling like sprinting out but the knife was right besides him, he was faster than you, a flash of images from the last time you saw him ran across your mind. You closed your eyes and shook your head, trying to erase the awful images from your mind. There was so much blood, almost thinking about it made you recall the horrible smell. You were sure he reeked of it.

You almost whimpered when you felt his weight shift and your eyes shot open, taking a huge jump back, your head hit the bedframe and he trapped you in between his body. Using the bed frame to sustain himself. The stitches were back and up close, you noticed he didn't exactly smell of blood, but there was another smell that you didn't --and didn't want to know-- recognize.

"What? Not going to scream?" He asked, the smile on his face seemed to widen, "you like to pretend like you're some big deal, doll." He leaned back. Sitting across you, still too close.

You were baffled, confused, nervous, but most of all, the anxiety and fear were going crazy in the pit of your stomach and you felt like you couldn't breath, almost as if you did, he would slice your throat open. Except he didn't because he had left the knife forgotten behind him. You couldn't even begin to comprehend why he was being so careless. You could easily kick him right now, but-

You cringed and scooted further back when one hand went to reach your face, despite your throat feeling like it was hard to swallow, you managed to speak; "P-please don't-- don't touch me."

If he could've blinked, you were sure he would've, he seemed confused before rolling his eyes and forcefully grabbing your chin. "Don't do any stupid tricks, like the last one you did. Or I'm getting rid of your eyes." He warned, and you nodded, your eyes were beginning to tear up. It was in that exact moment that another image seemed to flash by, this one being of the time when you spit right in his eyes, you felt yourself become even more afraid.

Was he just luring you into a false sense of security before killing you?

The two of you spent what seemed like forever like this, except that his gaze was so intense that you at some point had decided to avoid his gaze. He then scoffed, breaking the silence. He removed his hand and you could still feel it as it were a burning pain, his rough hands brought unpleasant memories that left you like a wreck.

"You haven't screamed, you haven't pleaded for your life-" you could almost hear him frown, "why the fuck haven't you? You're trembling, and I'm just touching you." 

You bit your lip. It wasn't that you didn't want to scream, it was that your lips wouldn't budge to let it out, you knew better, you knew better, you knew better...

"I'll be good, just please--please don't touch me." The words left your mouth in a mere whisper, you were so ashamed and shocked, and where did that come from? You felt another wave of emotions and images that you didn't want to deal with. God you felt so stupid, so embarrassed. You sounded so pathetic.

A small part of you hoped that he'd listen to your only request, you couldn't bare the single thought of him ignoring you. You've tried before, pleading, trying to not rage the person, but that never worked. It never worked. 

You almost wanted to laugh at your own misery. He was no different from those animals... he wouldn't listen to you.

In fact, once you looked at him through tear-filled eyes you could tell he wasn't even thinking about listening to you. Both his hands seemed to move towards you, before one retreated and his fingers came in contact with your forehead, he flicked it and you let out a small hiss, followed by your hands flying up to your forehead. 

He seemed to be thinking about something before his eyes lit up with an emotion you held no care towards knowing what it was. 

Then, he did something that you didn't expect. His lips met briefly with yours, then he bit and in the process, managed to make your head hit against the bed frame. You let out a startled gasp when you felt a hot liquid run down the back of your neck, a throbbing pain coming from the bump, the male's lips quickly retreated from your spot and he had the audacity to grin. You felt like throwing up.

God, he just kissed you. This is so fucked up, you were almost afraid of what he'd do next.

You could taste your blood in your tongue, you could see your blood in his lips. He seemed excited, as if he was entertained, licking his lips he leaned in, closer to you and you tried to scoot back but were unable to. You felt oddly calm --a small part of you, the one that was thankful that he hadn't killed you but still kissed you and it felt extremely wrong, you wanted to cry-- but at the same time you were still nervous and felt like throwing up.

This is the same guy who killed Samantha for fuck's sakes.

"Blondie wasn't this entertaining, she screamed and cried and told everyone about me. While it is fun watching people start to realize that she's slowly losing it, it isn't nearly as fun as stalking someone who's drawn me and doesn't plead for their lifes." He seemed almost content, but in his voice you could detect the slight disappointment.

You blinked, did that mean he wasn't going to kill you?

"Your screaming is nice-- too nice. I like it," He mused out loud and your eyes widened, "nightmares cause you to scream right? [Name]."

You gulped. How did he-

"It's nice, it sets the mood." He chuckled, and despite yourself you wondered what mood was your screaming setting? How long has he been around to hear you screaming after each nightmare?

"Except that it's not good. I don't want you screaming doll-" then his hand was again in your face and he was caressing your cheeks in a soft manner, his thumb grazing the scar of the cuts he had managed to cause when he pushed you to the ground that night. "At least, not when I'm not the cause of those nightmares."

His nail dug into your skin until he drew blood, you watched as he leaned closer and licked it. You were almost tempted to push him away, your body wouldn't cooperate. You felt so useless, so frozen by the fear. He might not be like those guys back at your town, he might not hurt you if you don't ask him not to. Whether the thought was comforting or not, you couldn't exactly decide.

"Say, let's play a game. The same one I played with Samantha." He suggested, leaning back, he almost seemed excited. You were actually thinking about just how old this guy was, for God's sakes, he almost seemed to be your age!

You didn't say anything, you didn't have a say in the matter anyways.

"I want to see how creative an artist's mind can be. I'll let you live, only if you manage to keep acting like nothing's wrong."


	7. 07

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otherwise known as the last chapter I've posted. Update were postponed last week and will resume tomorrow.

His words struck you as confusing.

Not odd, not weird, just plain out confusing. Your mind was still reeling back to understand what he had said and try to decipher if it actually made sense, despite your efforts however, there was no way your mind could comprehend it. Fear still had an upper hand in the situation it seemed and you managed to make a feeble movement of the head as if asking him what he meant. Better know than be sorry, you really feared what denying his requests and commands could cause you.

"What I'm saying is..." He gave a roll of his eyes as if he was explaining all of this to a child, as if his wording had actually made any sense in your frightened-mind, "that you're going to follow along as I say or you'll get your pretty little nails plucked out one by one." 

Your eyes widened and you found yourself shaking your head as small 'no' and 'please' stumbled out of your mouth, the killer seemed to debate something before grinning, and you watched as each string that held his cut-up cheeks together began to snap, a thin trail of blood that didn't seem to faze him trailed down his chin. Your eyes followed along until the trail ended somewhere in his throat. 

"You can ask questions you know-- I don't bite." His eyes shone with a delightful glee and you instantly picked up the sarcastic tone his voice held, he leaned back, giving you space that you were sure was going to take away soon enough.

When you bit your lip and looked away and didn't know what to say, he seemed to grow impatient because he grabbed your wrist and despite the whimper you let out he dug his nails into your flesh, you were trying to pull away but found yourself unable to, not because he was stronger than you, your body just wouldn't cooperate...

You felt trapped in your own body.

"Fucking ask a question." He growled out, which each word making sure to tighten his grip on your wrist, his skin felt oddly off, like it was made out of leather and pearly white, stained with dried blood that made you almost recoil in disgust. You just noticed that and a single thought managed to make itself in your head, it certainly felt different. 

"I- I um... what did you t--to Samantha?" the words flew out of your mouth in a string of stutters and lack of confidence, almost afraid of upsetting him with your words. Despite yourself, you ended up asking something that wasn't related to yourself. Why exactly? You yourself couldn't think straight right now.

The killer made a motion as if he was going to blink before furrowing his eyebrows, you watched as his lips quirked downwards, disbelief and disappointment on his features. "What? No questions about yourself?"

You shook your head and mentally sighed in relief when his grip lessened. Now, if you could only get him to stop holding you...

"You already saw what I did to Samantha." He replied, stoic--no. Bored. 

"No.. I mean, her- her body..." You muttered, God, just thinking about it made your stomach do a flip. Her glossy deadeyes managed to still unsettle you. It might sound selfish from your part, but not having to recall what exactly happened to her that night was a moment of pure ignorant-bliss. Now that you remembered each and every single detail of what had happened, how you managed to escape the killer's grasp --only to be here in your bedroom with him-- and then woke up covered in blood, it also made you recall other events that you didn't want to deal with at the moment.

You grit your teeth and tried too pull his hand away from your wrist, you hated this so much. He was probably doing it just to spite you. He had this knowing look on his face, like he knew something that you didn't know, like he was having too much fun.

"I thought the sisters told you what happened [Name]," he grinned when he spoke your name, it unsettled you just how much he knew and at the same time so little, where did he even get your name from? "Unless... you don't believe them."

You took a deep breath and shook your head, which earned a laugh from him. You were silently hoping that his laughter would alert anyone outside your bedroom that was walking by that you weren’t alone, that there was a male in the bedroom of a student in an all-girls school.

Your [eye color] eyes flickered to the side briefly and caught sight of the hour, 8:20pm. You only had ten more minutes before your group of friends would come pick you up to have dinner. You felt a small ray of hope light up your eyes; maybe they’d notice your distress and quickly call someone to help out, now…

How would you let them in on your situation without alerting the killer of your plan? 

His gaze was still on your form and his lips were drawn into a thin line, his hand had long ago left your wrist and you brought it up to your chest, feeling the rush of blood going towards that certain area.

“I don’t have all day, ask a question or we’re starting this game whether you like it or not.”

“What if I don’t want to play?” You asked after a moment to recollect yourself, you were still scared but just the thought of having salvation so close in so little amount of time managed to make you regain what little courage you had, anything as long as he kept his distance and the knife laid behind him.

“You don’t have a choice, ask another question.” 

You frowned but asked nonetheless, better know what you’re getting yourself into. 

“What—what do you want from me? Is it… am I going to end up like… like-“ Your words managed to die on your throat but by the way the killer seemed to have perked up by the question, he clearly understood.

“To answer your second question, yes, you will.” You felt your chest tighten, “That is if you make the same careless mistakes as blondie, which I think you will not. You’re smart; you haven’t said anything at all. If not then you get to live and I get to keep enjoying you.” He grinned, a grin that matched the way his voice took a darker tone.

“To answer your first question, all I want from you is to keep your pretty little mouth shut or else what I do to you will increase until death is certain. Got it?” 

You remained quiet for an extended period of time, letting his words sink in and gain a sort of understanding in your brain, you couldn’t comprehend what he was saying exactly. He wanted to do exactly what with you? What had he been doing to Samantha? For how long? 

“…Why?” You asked, genuinely curious, although still knowing that the minutes were ticking by, “I mean… what is it exactly that you want with me?” 

The killer shrugged, “Killing people becomes boring after years of it, got to find new ways to keep myself entertained. So this thing happened and Samantha couldn’t keep her stupid mouth shut, so I took care of that—“

He glared at you, “then you decided to play spectator and the idea of ending your pathetic life was consuming me. You tried to fight for your miserable life and this is where it got you…” He leaned in, this time slowly, almost like he was expecting you to react by pushing him away, which you were almost tempted to do.

“Say… [Name]. Did it help you out last time you were in a situation like this?” He asked, mockingly, his body hovering over yours and a flash of fear and rage consumed your whole being. His hand rested itself on your shoulder and his eyes managed to give out just how entertained he was.

Your words failed you. Not because of the proximity, but because he knew something that you didn’t know. He did know, you did know, and he was making sure to push you out of your comfort zone. You started to feel hot and bothered and your face felt hot, your vision… you were seeing red but tears began to form.

“How-“ He cut you off with a snicker. Like he was finding the situation funny, God you wanted to push him so bad…

“I know everything about you-“ This managed to make an unpleasant shiver run down your spine, “but unlike the likes of them, if you make a stupid move and talk too much, I’ll kill you and won’t think twice about it.”

One last look at the clock and the sound of footsteps nearing your door made your eyes flicker briefly to the door, the killer caught sight of this and his eyes widened a bit more, a motion that would’ve gone unnoticed if you hadn’t been so close to him. His blue eyes hardened and he whispered out lowly, harshly. 

“Don’t fucking think about it.”

Except that when the steps stopped close to your door, your mouth opened to scream out and you found yourself unable to. One second his hands are on your shoulders and the next they’re on your neck, squeezing.

Your eyes widened and you began to trash, flailing your legs all around him, trying to kick him, hit him. You did manage to but every kick managed to make him tighten his grip on your neck. Tears began to fall freely from your face and the lack of oxygen managed to make your lungs burn, ache for air.

Your instincts instantly kicked in and your nails began to scratch his skin, trying to hurt him. Despite your efforts to try and hurt him momentarily to get his grip on you to lessen even if for a little bit…

“[Name], are you awake?” a voice from the other side of the door barely managed to make itself known in your brain, nor did the killer care in all honesty. It was the sound of someone trying to open the door that managed to freeze the two of you momentarily. 

You had locked the door previously… he didn’t know that.

It only took you that small second of distraction to land a single kick on his stomach that made the killer loosen his grip, which let you the opportunity to jump from your bed and landing on the floor unceremoniously. The sound of people talking at your door was slowly becoming disoriented sounds and your vision began to get fuzzy.

Probably from the lack of air you deduced.

You didn’t waste any time in trying to reach the door, but when you began to pick your body up, you felt a rough kick send you back into the floor, hitting your head rather harshly on the cold tiles, a groan escaped your lips before you could comprehend what was happening, your body slammed against one of your walls and you heard the footsteps drift away, a sob escaped your lips.

“You hear that? You try anything funny again and I’m slicing you open right here.” His mouth was close to your ear, whispering the threats and your body shook, one of his hands had tangled itself into your hair and was pulling you towards him.

“I can hurt you without my knife, I can break you and no one will know. I could dump your body out in the woods to feed the wild animals and play it off as your parents picking you up because ‘they’re no longer satisfied with the education the school has’.” The killer began to shake slowly, stifling small giggles that reminded you of a madman.

It only dawned on you just how familiar those words were and you felt awful terrible, you felt scared… for yourself. He had just given out what he did to Samantha…

“So shut up, and don’t play tricks. My patience runs dangerously low and the spit on my eyes managed to impress me-“ He pulled on your hair, bending your head back so that you were looking at him. Your legs felt like giving up, “-I could take out your eyes right now and you can’t do anything about it.”

He dropped his grasp on your hair and instantly your whole body crumbled, falling to the floor with little struggle. Your head hurt, not just the back –a dull pain that managed to come back once more—but also your side, your ears were ringing and your throat hurt from the squeezing. You could barely make out any sounds and your vision was beginning to blur extremely.

The killer noticed your lack of movement before moving to another part of the room, picking up his knife before bending down to pick something, you couldn’t exactly make out.

He made his way towards your form before telling you to stand up.

When you didn’t move and he growled out the order again, you couldn’t help but flinch and do as he said, even if it managed to be a hard task –gosh your head was pounding so loudly and your breathing was cut short—you tried to remain sitting up, body hunched over. The Killer crouched down to your height before taking his hand and grabbing your chin, lifting it up before speaking.

“Open up.”

You wanted to shake your head, to say no, but instead pursued your lips together and tried to move your head out of the way. The killer clicked his tongue.

“Stop being such a fucking brat and open your goddamn mouth.” He increased the pressure on your chin and you opened your mouth hesitantly. The moment you did however, he pushed his fingers inside of it and deposited something. Before you could spit out the contents he shut your mouth.

“Swallow.” He ordered and you shook your head, you already knew what he had placed on your mouth. Eight pills, the ones that he had dropped a while back. You wanted to spit them out but he was making it impossible.

“You’re doing this the hard way then?” He grinned, still, he seemed bothered by the lack of obedience towards his orders you had. “I don’t mind.” Then he pinched your nose and kept on like that for what felt like forever.

You knew you had no other choice but to swallow the pills, so you did and cringed when they painfully made their way down your throat. When you grabbed his hand to try and push it away did he let go. You took a huge intake of air before starting to cough.

“You should be thankful, I’m doing you a favor. Someone ought to find you and think that you took your life-“ He began, though you didn’t begin to pay much attention to him, you doubled over, clutching your stomach while taking quick and short breaths.

Your chest felt like it was on fire.

“Hell, they might even try to guess it was because you could no longer live due to your traumatic experience a couple of years back.” He laughed, you watched as he sat down on your bed once more, grabbing his knife and twisting it.

“—Decided to take your life due to the fact that you couldn’t get it out of your head, not even ‘God’ could help you live through out your stupid life. A pathetic way to cope is blocking out memories.” He scoffed, his gaze on your form.

“You know, I was set on fire once. I don’t block that shitty experience out, helped me grow as a fucking person. You on the other side… you’re disgusting to look at.”

By this point, all of his words were just sinking in and slowly tearing you apart.

“Hell, I don’t think you were raped. I think you were looking for it and now you’re playing it off as if you didn’t consent to it. As if you have some stupid fear over men now.”

You began to see black spots fill your vision. No, no… you weren’t looking for it. He was wrong. 

"But you know, I like to give people the benefit of doubt. If you live then you're getting a chance to prove to me that your life's worth living. If not... well, I guess this is the last time we'll be seeing each other." 

"I really doubt it though."

Everything went black shortly afterwards.


	8. 08

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i hate this chapter. That is all.

You didn't even manage to comprehend your surroundings before your stomach clenched and a warm feeling crept up on your throat, a bitter taste that made you turn over and try to sit up, covering your mouth with your hand as you tried to swallow down the bile, however, in an attempt to do so you only managed to spill the contents out.

Vomit hit the ground and the air began to be invaded with the disgusting stench. Cringing slightly at your now-dirty hand and the smell and burning of your throat, you managed to cough and roll over, wiping your hand in the floor in a spot where it wasn't already covered in vomit and... is that blood?

God, the sight of it almost made you want to puke again. You quickly discarded the thought and began to crawl backwards until you hit your desk, whimpering when your back made a harsh contact with the surface of it. You tried to take steady breaths to calm your heart down, your vision was a mess and the room's light wasn't helping in the slightest. Your heart was beating loudly, ringing in your ears, and you... you definitely smelled of sweat and vomit.

You leaned your head and and sighed, closing your eyes and trying to remember how you got this way wasn't as long as you thought it would take you. Your fists clenched at the memory and quickly snapped your eyes open when you realized that you didn't even know if the killer was still in the room with you.

With that thought in your head you couldn't even find the energy to stand up or open your eyes, the darkness was an almost welcoming feeling to your current predicament. Taking another deep breath --another cough-- and running your hand through your hair, which was now hard and probably --no, not probably, it did-- smelled of vomit, one single thought ran through your head and to be honest, you were quite surprised by it.

You wanted to shower for a long time.

Any reasonable person would try to find someone to help them out, but you were tired and your stomach was doing flips and the burning sensation was still in your throat. You were actually quite surprised that the pills hadn't killed you... you instantly deduced that your body threw them up after you had passed out. It was probably the most sane thought that could come to mind, and by far the most logical.

Standing up, proved to be difficult. It was probably the most energy-consuming and painful part of it all. When you stood up you managed to clumsily knock every single item that sat on the desk and cringed when it all fell to the floor in loud noises that would probably arise questions from anyone outside --despite the fact that you couldn't hear anything-- and would most likely require you to answer them. You yourself couldn't know how to begin.

When you noticed your clock hanging by the cord at the edge of the table, you turned your head and slightly and squinted your eyes, managing to make out the red '9:40 pm' numbers in the device. You bit your lip and quickly regretted the action, everything smelled putrid. It was making you sick, literally.

Walking to the door was sort of a hassle, you had to grab onto everything to not fall down on everything. You also almost tripped in the pill-bottle and almost had a heart attack when you saw a note sitting in your bed, which somehow, was the thing that freaked you out the most and made you want to get out of the room as soon as possible. You could feel eyes on you, despite the fact that the window was close and he couldn't have hidden somewhere else because there was literally no place else to hide.

Opening the door and taking a peek outside was almost relieving and scary at the same time. Thankfully, the halls were not crowded, which at this point you weren't going to question at all if it meant avoiding anyone staring. You carefully and steadily made your way down the hall, remaining as close to the walls without actually touching them in case you needed something to support on to. You really didn't feel like dirtying the walls if you could walk perfectly...

Or as perfect as you could with your legs feeling like jelly and your head pounding. At least your stomach had settled, but right now the effects of vomiting and not having ate anything in the whole day had left you quite dizzy. You could only hope that you would make it to the showers and hopefully not encounter anyone there. 

"Alright...letsee-" you mumbled and stopped in one of the doors, taking a deep breath you leaned your head on the door and listened closely to see if any sound came from the inside. There was a warm air radiating from behind the door which really alerted you that there were people in the showers... but you couldn't hear water running, or voices talking. 

It was probably empty.

With that thought in mind, you turned the knob and stepped inside, closing the door softly behind you. The Shower Room wasn't much different from a locker room. There were a lot of lockers lined up on the walls, a couple of benches and other miscellaneous stuff, except that off to the side where a couple of hangers were put at, two slidable doors made of crystal with two crosses in a light-pink colour stood. The glass was fogged and when you took a closer listening, you definitely heard some voices from behind.

Giggling.

Okay, that's... that's good. That meant you wouldn't be alone showering, which was right now an almost comforting thought. You walked towards one of the many lockers situated near the furthest end of the wall, the one that held a big [favorite colour] star-sticker on it. Your name scrawled in cursive in black marker. Fumbling with the lock and constantly peeking over your shoulder --for no apparent reason... you just... felt like it, -- you let out a small smile break into your features when it clicked and your locker opened, revealing some towels, soaps and lotions.

Grabbing one of the towels and soap bars and setting them down on one of the benches, you began to undo your clothing. Trying to avoid upsetting your head, the bumps that had formed from both the back and sides had grown and felt like they were throbbing painfully. It wasn't until you took a good look at your arms did you notice the cuts, long and wide, different sizes. 

You almost tripped on your own feet, managing to sit down on the bench you felt your body shake slowly. Your hands and arms trembling. You didn't care that you were left in nothing but your underwear right now. You could feel the tears beginning to surface again, your lips trembled and you felt so worthless... so...so--

No. you felt extremely indignant!

You bit your lip until you tasted blood and let your body began to shake with rage as tears began to spill out. Your fists clenched and you let out a sob, lowering your head you looked at the ground. How dare he? You could explain the bumps, the other stuff... but you couldn't explain this. He couldn't do this to you... you didn't deserve this!

You stayed there for what felt like forever until you calmed down, crying wasn't going to make any of your pain go away. If not, it only managed to bring the dull throbbing back. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you took off your undergarments and grabbed your towel and soap bar, walking carefully towards the slidable doors and opening them. 

Thankfully, inside, the only two people who were using the shower stalls had their doors closed, which was... Good. It was good. It wasn't that you minded others watching you naked, a common occurrence whenever the students took showers. But right now, you smelled and looked disgusting. The cuts on your wrists and arms --they had just begun stinging, the pills must've kept you sleepy still-- made you want to curl up in a ball and hide in a corner.

However, as much as you wanted that. You also wanted to get all of the vomit and blood off of your form before anyone came in and saw the mess that you are.

Entering one of the stalls and closing the door behind you. You wasted no time in hanging up the towel and turning on the shower head, you let out a pleased hum escape your lips when the warm water began to hit your skin. You wasted no time and began to scrub, slowly, your body. Grimacing when you caught sight of the dark and dirty water that gathered underneath your form.

You didn't know you were that dirty... The good thing is that you were starting to smell great again, and that lifted your spirits up even if a tiny bit. The cuts however... you preferred to not look at them now. You'll deal with them later, you just didn't feel like upsetting yourself so much that you wouldn't be able to finish showering.

You just felt so tired, so pathetic. You also realized that you felt hyper aware of your surroundings. Especially the feeling of being watched. Even through the water hitting you directly, you could hear some chatting, you instantly deduced it were the other girls that were showering. Friends perhaps? You quickly discarded the feeling as your paranoia... Anyone who had met a killer would surely be like this.

But a small part, felt at ease. Just knowing that you're alive because the guy couldn't kill you right now, was a comforting thought. As weird as it may seem, but another part, the biggest one, reminded you that you weren't safe and talking about your problem would most likely you get you in much much trouble, or you'd end up dead.

Sighing, you reached blindly for one of the stands in the wall, grabbing nothing but air. You frowned but quickly clicked your tongue. Opening your mouth and tilting your head back, you let your mouth fill with water before spitting out. Repeating the process a couple of times in an attempt to get rid of the taste of bile.

It... it wasn't working very well, but at least it's something.

You also realized you hadn't brought your shampoo. Frowning, you took a look at your soap and sighed. It's better than nothing... you guess. You start to work on your face and your hair. Trying to get it to get as soapy as you can before you let the water rinse you off. You heart beginning to fasten when the water and soap make you close your eyes.   
It sent you into an almost frantic state not being able to see.

You began to scrub your face rapidly, in an attempt to get the water and soap off of your face. Taking a step backwards, you let out a startled gasp when you slipped, falling backwards. Eyes shutting tightly for the impact...

Except it never came.

Your whole body went rigid when you realized that your fall was stopped by a body, your head was on the person's stomach and hands were holding you in place. It was almost as if your body instantly knew who it was because when they let out a too-familiar chuckle, your mouth opened and you let out the loudest scream you could muster.

Scrambling away from said person, you made your way into one of the wall, literally slamming into it and curling up in the corner. Still screaming and crying and kicking, you didn't register the worried shouts from the other two students. You did however, noticed how the door silently opened and didn't close. Only to slam open once more and the sound of panting and someone calling out your name was heard.

You brought your knees up to your bare chest and wept, still trembling.

"[Name]-"

"G-go aw-away!" You sobbed, trying to curl up even more into your place. The water turned off and you rubbed your eyes, blinking away the water that managed to stay in your eyelashes. You however, did not look up, not even when the footsteps began anew and stopped shortly after, one of the girls stopped right in front of you.

"[Name] c'mon, what happened? Why did you scream?" She asked and it wasn't until they laid a hand on your shoulder, which you tried to shake off with a whimper. That you recognized the voice.

Karmelia.

You raised your head slightly. It was in fact Karmelia, and she looked extremely worried. She was in nothing but a towel that wrapped around her body and just behind her, another girl who you didn't recognize. Probably a classmate. However, your eyes were on Karmelia, who must've caught sight of your wrist because her eyes widened before she frowned, grabbing your wrist.

"I... what-- do you-" she looked at you, her eyes scanning for an answer, but you shook your head and lowered your gaze. "-- I'm calling the sisters." 

She stood up and motioned for the other girl to go after her. It didn't click in you brain that she was leaving until she was walking out the door. With what little willpower you had, you quickly managed to crawl towards her and grab her leg in a desperate attempt. She stopped and looked at you, eyes wide as you cried.

"N-no... please don't leave me alone."


	9. 09

“O-ouch!”

You pulled away from Karmelia's grasp as quick as she pulled rather harshly on your hair. She uttered apologies as you rubbed your head; the spot where the comb was still tangled in your hair throbbed painfully and made a wave of anxiety wash over your body. It took two deep breaths and counting from one to ten to not scream out.

She hadn’t meant it on purpose, but the hair pulling was enough to make the images from that night come back again. Truthfully, the only reason as to why you hadn't gotten away by this point- she had already pulled way too many times, but your head was a mess- was because you literally did not have anywhere else to go. 

At least not without getting scolded for wandering in the halls at one in the morning, or having someone asked about the cuts. You subconsciously rubbed your clothed-arms. Karmelia's pajamas were a bit big on you, which made you feel a bit, if not, a whole lot better. Mainly because she was also a fan of long-sleeved pajama shirts, it didn’t matter to you that it was beyond hot right now. Seeing the cuts and bruises made your stomach churn.

“You know, I don’t know if I should worry about the fact that you’ve just spoke -after what? Three hours?- because I pulled on your hair, for what? The thirteenth time? Or because this might be the only way I can get a response out of you.” Karmelia sighed and grabbed your shoulder, lightly pulling you back into your spot before taking the comb and carefully trying to untangle it.

You bit your lip when she pulled again, trying to not make any sound. Your nails dug into the palm of your hand. You felt… guilty. It was probably the only word you could come up with to describe your feelings right now. Karmelia was a good friend, a really good one in fact. It was sort of unfair that you couldn't tell her anything, or at least, answer some of her questions.

Not only had she let you borrow her pajamas, she denied you from entering your room to spend the night there –although, it wasn't because she knew about the killer, she feared more about the cuts and your screaming, and you couldn't complain because truth be told you were beyond scare to stay alone. You didn't say anything about it though- and was now wasting her precious sleeping time so she could untangle your hair.

You were being more than a little unfair by not telling her-No. You were being extremely unfair by not even making up some sort of excuse to get her to worry less, or more, it really depended on what came out of your mouth because your brain wasn't cooperating in the slightest. But thinking about lying to her sounded more appealing than telling her the truth.

Hey Karm, guess what? Do you remember that killer everyone was obsessing about a couple of months back? Yeah, well he came to visit me a couple of hours earlier, kissed me and then left me to die haha funny right?-

“[Name]?” Her voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you visible flinched. God you felt awful, you could literally hear her frowning and you weren't even looking at her. You lowered your head and let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

“Are you okay? You're shaking.” She asked, voice laced with actual concern that made the guilt double. You remained quiet, and after she noticed you weren't going to respond, she shifted on her bed and continued untangling your hair. The silence, as much as it pained you, was comforting in a sort of way. Silence meant that she was currently going through her thoughts, whether she was going to keep pestering you for answers to questions you'd rather not listen to, or she was simply debating on what to do with you.

It was pretty obvious that she wasn't going to plan on kicking you out. Mostly due to the fact that she apparently held thoughts of you being suicidal and any attempts at you taking your life were going to probably haunt her for the rest of her life. It didn't take a genius to put two and two together. You could see it in her eyes, and it briefly made you recall what the killer had said.

About the whole 'humans are selfish creatures' and whether you liked it or not. The single phrase was a thing that remained in your head until she had pulled again on your hair, and instead of muttering an apology she sighed. Like she was tired, and she probably was. You didn't look back from your spot. [Eye colour] orbs concentrated on the floor.

"Welp, I'm done." She said and then went silent. As if expecting an answer from you, biting your lip you shifted on your spot. Your body felt too heavy, tired, drained. It was almost a wonder how you hadn't managed to fall asleep while she was combing through your hair. You noted in the back of your brain to never use soap as a way to clean your hair.

It probably still reeked of vomit and blood. You didn't exactly finish that shower of yours, you were more concentrated on not being left alone. So much that at the moment you didn't exactly care that you were naked and her eyes had briefly trailed down towards your stomach, the three scars on there being the most prominent looking ones after the ones in your arms. Except that those were much older.

"...You know, a thanks would be very much appreciated." Karmelia retorted and flicked the back of your head. Your eyes snapped open and you let out a whimper, quickly scurrying away. In the process managing to hit her desk and making the pens and other misc things fall. You felt your heart sink, tears swelling in your eyes. God, you were a mess.

"S-sorry sorry sorrysorry-" You mumbled quickly, like you didn't know what to do. Because in all honesty, you really didn't. You were dreading even looking at Karmelia. Even when you had finished picking up the pens and held them in your hand, clinging to them, because you were shaking and scared and you felt like the biggest douche in the world.

Karmelia's trying to help you and yet you're here ignoring her and freaking out because she's touching and she's your friend for God' sake-

"[Name], yo, sorry! I-I didn't mean to!" And if Karmelia sounding distressed didn't make you look up from your spot. Then the way her words wavered did. Because Karmelia rarely stumbled upon her words and you definitely heard the way her voice shook. 

Just like you expected, and it was a really big surprise. When your eyes met Karmelia's you realised that her eyes were watering and she was shaking, not as much as you, but still, the movement was there and definitely not missed by your gaze. It was at this point that you thought that maybe the one that should be miserable should be her, and not you, because she's been doing everything in her power to make you feel okay and maybe open up and you're just here, ignoring her every word and attempts.

If you felt awful before, this was the cherry on top and you wanted to throw yourself out the window right this instant.

"I'm sorry okay? I-I'm just so scared because you don't want to talk and you were screaming in the showers and I was literally scared out of my mind and and-" She was sobbing by now and you felt a pang to your chest. Karmelia began to rub her eyes in an attempt to stop the tears. You silently stood up, eyes a bit too wide, still shaking, but determination to stop your friend from crying was the most prominent thought. 

You really wanted to say that you hugged her because you cared about her, which you did. But the main reason was because the more she talked and babbled incoherent words, the more awful you felt and having to deal with guilt over all of this was not something you wanted to. You already had enough with Samantha's death and the guilt that you have managed to ease back into your mind. Being responsible for Karmelia's outburst? Yeah, not so much.

So the two of you stood there. You rubbed Karmelia's back, your mouth wouldn't open to say any words of consolation. It was probably for the best too. You felt like if you talked she would ask you things that you didn't want to answer. And by the way the banging didn't stop in your chest and her tears had managed to wet her own pajamas, you would probably feel obligated to answer them. 

"And I'm just really scared because I saw all of those cuts and I just thought about my little brother-" Karmelia took a deep breath here and then looked up at you. Her eyes held this melancholic look over them that made you want to pull her tighter into a hug. Despite the fact that you already were holding her tightly. "-Please promise me you won't do it [Name]... it's not worth it. Things do get better."

You bit your lip and actually managed to taste blood when she gripped your shoulders and looked at you dead in the eye. You were tempted to shift your eyes from her gaze. However, when you did, Karmelia squeezed a bit more. Not enough to leave marks.

"[Name]. Look at me." She urged you and you could only comply to her request. It was the least you could do for her. You've stressed her enough as it is already. 

"Please promise me that you'll tell me when things get rough."

You took a breath. "I-"

"[Name] I'm serious. Don't keep quiet about anything." Her eyes scanned your face, in a search for something. Whatever it was you weren't really paying attention. Your eyes had quickly shifted towards the window, where you saw movement. You felt your heart stop and despite the fear that was beginning to run through your veins, there was also a feeling of annoyance that began to settle on your mind.

The contact was brief, but he was there and was shaking his head from side to side. He quickly climbed up towards the rooftop when he noticed that Karmelia had looked towards the window. Confusion written on her face and you quickly tried to get her mind out of the window.

"I... um... sure, I will." You rubbed the back of your neck and felt oddly relieved when a small smile slipped past Karmelia's lip. She let go of you before eyeing your arms. You subconsciously crossed your arms. The room fell quiet afterwards. Karmelia's eyes glanced briefly to the side before she stretched.

"I think we should go to bed. We've got class tomorrow."

 

 

Morning was awkward. And painful.

But mostly awkward. You've never slept outside your room, and while it didn't prove as different as sleeping in your room. Knowing that you were sharing it with someone else felt somewhat foreign. Also because you hadn't had any nightmares nor needed the sleeping pills- actually, you wanted to stay away from those forever- you think you slept pretty well. Or at least, as well as you could with your body still feeling heavy and the memories of last night events still took hold of your morning-thoughts.

You weren't complaining though. A big part of you was actually grateful that you had someone with you to wake up and get ready for the day, which mainly consisted of praying together to start the day, waiting for Karmelia to finish putting on her uniform and then the two of you walking to your room to get your uniform -despite Karmelia's protests of going there, because she could also lend you her uniform- and even when you stood outside your door and were dreading opening it, you knew it had to be done.

And it was an actual surprise, which was mainly overclouded with fear and disgust, that the room was clean, extremely clean. Any mess from yesterday was no longer existent and even your uniform was laid out in your bed, perfectly lined up, underwear and all. You almost wanted to puke right there and then. The nuns never entered a student's room without the student being with them, and cases like those happened rarely. You were the sole owner of the key to the room, so the only logical explanation was that the killer had been inside.

It wasn't that hard to figure out either. The window had been left open and just beneath the uniform was something white poking out. You were almost regretting leaving Karmelia outside waiting for you to get ready and even though the room was empty -why would he be waiting for you?- you felt like you were being watched. Like the room had a heavy feeling to it. 

You changed quickly, not even bothering to fold the pajamas before looking for your bookbag. Opening it, you noticed that even your notebooks were all there, in order from class to class. You shuddered but didn't stay too long to think about it. It was almost time for the two of you to head to get breakfast. Plus, you couldn't leave Karmelia waiting outside forever. It also wasn't like you were too keen on the idea of spending any extra time in the room.

Actually, if possible, you would be avoiding it for the rest of the day.

Walking towards the door, your [eye colour] eyes glanced briefly to the bed. The white note was there, waiting to be opened. You however ignored it and walked outside. Karmelia raised and eyebrow and you shook your head.

"Let's go."


	10. 10

The first three periods weren't as bad as you thought them out to be. They went slow and were antagonizing and most of the time it was just you trying to keep your eyes open and head raised because the teachers were asking more questions than usual. Which was out of the norm. Classes were more reading than talking; the change was a bit tiring in your opinion.

But with the lack of sleep and your paranoia and your bruised body, everything felt like it was too tiring. Which was also another great thing that you felt tired, because apparently Karmelia had noticed your lack of caring towards covering up the cuts and bruises and made it her duty to give you her sweater.

You wore it the whole day.

And truthfully, you were thankful, because you got a lot of worried comments on your appearance. The dark bags had become prominent and you now sported two bumps, one in the side of your head and the other at the back, not to mention the slight-darker mark on your neck and some minor cuts in your cheeks.

Your group of friends jumped to conclusions quickly and instantly assumed that the nightmares you had become so infamous for had been starting again. You remained quiet, any attempt to prove otherwise would lead you to lie, and lying under pressure was something you weren't exactly good at.

Karmelia also tried her best to remain at your side throughout the day, but as luck had it, your schedules were different and she only had two classes with you this school year, plus she was part of the school’s Choir, which took her afternoon hours away. You weren't mad or upset about it, a little bummed out and scared, though you really didn't want to think about it.

It wasn't her fault that she had signed up for Choir after school classes, when you join the school in your first year, activities were things that the freshmen were often encouraged to join. Sadly enough, you hadn't had that privilege. At the time of joining the school, your parents had already made appointments for your first whole school year to be spent at the school’s counselors office, to help you get rid of your fear.

You were actually thankful for it, it made you want to speak out and socialize with other people your age, even if they were all girls. At least, it was a better way of handling things instead of the way you were previously coping with. Which was by isolating yourself and not eating, food was something that you rarely seeked out in that time.

Speaking about food, it was probably time for lunch anyways.

 

Your gaze flickered to the wall, past various other heads, where the clock stood at. Sure enough, just as you confirmed the time for lunch break, the bell rang and the classroom was most definitely almost empty when the bell had finished ringing. The only three remaining people, plus you, were two other girls and your Social Studies teacher. Both the girls were talking among themselves in hushed tones, probably about something that they didn't want the teacher to hear, before walking out.

 

You quickly followed after them, giving the teacher a small smile before walking out of the classroom. The halls were full to the brim with other students and you tried to make your way past the other students, muttering apologies as you bumped into some who weren't moving, or whom you accidentally bumped into because of the other girls pushing. 

 

It wasn't long, but certainly felt like an eternity, until you caught sight of the cafeteria. Waving your way through, you actually managed to set your hand on the double doors before you felt a hand on your shoulder and your body instantly went rigid.

 

Was it just you or did the whole hall go deadly silent.

“[Name], hey!” Karmelia greeted you and you relaxed, sighing audibly loud. The background sounds were back, good.

“God, you're going to scare the living daylights out of me.” You smiled before pushing the doors and entering the cafeteria, Karmelia trailing behind you before making her way to your side. She grabbed your hand and led you towards the line.

You leaned against the wall as your eyes trailed off towards the beginning of the line. The cafeteria was crowded, which was particularly weird seeing as most of the girls preferred to have lunch out in the main yard. You didn't make a comment about it though. Instead relinquishing on the smell of cheese-sticks and pizza.

Your gaze trailed off towards the tables, looking to find any recognizable face from your group of friends. A small noise managed to slowly make its way into your train of thought before hands were literally shaking you. You blinked and looked at Karmelia.

The line was far away by this point and other students were cutting ahead of the two of you.

It wasn't until Karmelia snapped her fingers about three times in front of your eyes did you notice her lips were moving. You shook your head. 

“I’m sorry, what?”

The female grabbed your hand and pulled you forward trying to erase the space between the line and the two of you. When you turned your head to look at the sides, still trying to find your friends, she grabbed your face and made you look at her.

Truthfully, it took a lot of willpower to not get away but you did flinch and she noticed this. Her eyes flashed with what you could only assume was either pity or guilt, you prefer the first one to the latter.

“Eyes here pal. I was saying that the group decided to have lunch out in the yard.”

Your eyes widened, “Wait, the sisters stopped allowing students to have lunch outsi-“

“Yeah, well, they don't have to know.” She brought one finger up to her lips and winked at you. Your eyes widened even more and you were beginning to stutter out incoherent things, managing to get some eyes settled on the two of you.

If your group of friends was planning on going outside without the sisters knowing then that meant that there would be no authority looking over your friends, it meant that if something happened no one would notice until it was too late.

It meant that if you went out, he could appear and you-

“Jeesh, relax [Name]! I was just kidding.” Karmelia tried to hide her nervous laughter by pursuing her lips. Brows furrowed she leaned in towards you and looked at you directly in the eyes. “Question. What makes you nervous? Going outside or not having authorization to go outside?”

Your face mimicked hers and a single thought went through your mind. Scooting back a bit you sent her an accusatory glare, “What did you mean with the first option?”

“[Name], half the school knows you woke up outside covered in blood.” Karmelia answered, going back to her own personal space as she let you have her words sink in to your brain. You were currently having trouble absorbing them. 

[Eye colour] eyes looked at her face, searching for answers. After what felt like forever you asked a simple question.

“Wh-“ 

“Next!”

Karmelia’s eyes widened before she looked behind her. Sure enough, she was the next in line to get her food. Grabbing two trays, she handed you one before muttering what sounded like ‘rude’ under her breath. A small smile managed to slip into your lips before you picked out stuff after her.

 

While she settled for two slices of pizza, you went with one, a yogurt, and at least five cheese-sticks –obviously this earned a questioning look from the lunch-lady but you sheepishly shrugged- and some fruit. After that, you followed after Karmelia out of the cafeteria.

Once out in the halls, were the noise was less prominent, you asked your question.

“Okay, now, Why-No. How does the whole school knows this?” You were genuinely curious. When you woke up you didn’t encounter a single soul, no one.

Karmelia shrugged, “You know how rumors are around here. The question here would be: what were you doing outside?”

You lowered your gaze when Karmelia looked at you. “Honestly, I don't know.”

You tried to take a breath. This was hard… it was different that one time in the nurse’s office, because you really didn't recall anything. But now you did and the ‘bear story’ sounded so much more appealing than the original one.

Honestly, if you could pick one of the stories, you would go with the real one. If it didn’t mean having to be seen as crazy by your fellow classmates.

Whether Karmelia believed you or not, she made no signs to show otherwise. Instead she stepped up her pace and you tried to do the same, “Well, there was a dead bear found outside and you weren't found that far away from the poor little thing. So now everyone either thinks you're a killer or you sleep-fight bears.”

Karmelia snickered at the silly ideas and you couldn’t manage to hold in a laugh. This was better… it was a change at least. It made your worries go away for a little bit.

“Okay. What do you think it was?”

“Honestly, I think you’re probably a master of Kung-Fu and a bear-assassin when sleepwalking. [Name] The Angel Of Bear-Killing.”

You raised an eyebrow at the nickname but didn't comment on it. Once the two of you were nearing the doors, you made sure to speed up so you could open it. Not a hard task when you didn't have a lot of stuff to carry. You waited until Karmelia stepped outside for you to do so, counting one from to ten to ease some nerves that made your legs feel like jelly.

Outside was nice, the day was cloudy but felt warm. The sun's rays peeked out from the small gaps that the clouds didn't filled in and the main yard was peaceful. You stole a quick glance at Karmelia who shrugged sheepishly when she noticed you had spotted the other students outside. 

"C'mon, do you actually expect us to go against the rules?" Karmelia snorted before motioning you to follow her. That you did, trying to refrain from looking out into the woods near the gates. You swore you had seen some movement but you quickly discarded it.

"No. But then again, I'm friends with the same group of girls who decided to wear the sisters's clothing just for the sake of it." You accused, to which Karmelia let out a small laugh. You noticed that she waved towards your group of friends, sitting just underneath one of the trees. Your stomach did a flip and you bit your lip.

This was the same place where you first met Samantha.

"Guilty as charged! But c'mon! It was priceless! You could see it in their eyes, Sister Johan was practically crying and thanking God that he had guided us to the right path-" Karmelia stopped, having to hold in her laughter but failing at it. You shook your head and walked ahead, sitting down on the grass and setting your tray down just besides you. You offered each and every one of the girls a smile and a greeting.

Instantly after Karmelia sat down and was still laughing, everyone began to dig in on their lunch, talking or complaining about anything that happened on their classes. Obviously, some questions were addressed towards the sweater you were wearing and some questions were directed towards the 'bear incident' to which you really did not answer fully.

At some point though, the words that were being spoken failed to reach your ears when you again, caught movement just behind the trees. You squinted your eyes trying to see what it was, but every time you stared for too long or didn't answer when you were called your friends began to try and redirect your attention to them.

It was when the group's chatter faded a little bit, did you notice Karmelia's presence was not besides you. You frowned.

"Where's Karm?"

"She went to the bathroom... hey, I was wondering. Where is your bookbag? You didn't have it when you came here." 

Your eyes widened, your hand went to instantly touch anything by your side. Sure enough, your bookbag was not on your form. Going quickly through your memories, you let a groan slip out from your mouth when you realized that you had forgotten it on your last class. A.k.a the most furthest classroom in the whole school.

"Ugh, I left it at Sister Johan's classroom." You sighed, standing up. Better go get it now when there were still students roaming around the halls. While the thought of going alone was nerve-wrecking alone, you couldn't bother the other girls to accompany you... and waiting for Karmelia would most likely end up in getting late to your next class. The halls were a hell to walk through, it was best to go get your bookbag right now.

"Um, If Karmelia comes back before break's over. Tell her that I'll be dropping off some stuff later in her bedroom." With that, you set off to get your bookbag. Jogging up the steps and into the main building, you didn't waste any time in setting to get as fast as you could to the classroom. You could hear chatter, which was good. Extremely good, you barely thought about the fact that you were currently alone. 

When you were about to round a corner, a single dark notebook caught your attention. Jogging halting to a stop, you realized that the notebook was yours. Frowning, you went to pick it up, and upon doing so noticed that there were about five more, each further away from each other. 

"What the..." You mumbled, picking up the notebooks as you went. Finally, reaching a classroom where the last notebook was dropped at, you noticed that inside the class, where the door was mid-open, was your bookbag. Bending down to pick it up, you yelped when a hand grabbed your wrist.

The door flew open and you were pulled inside, the door closing behind you with a click. Before you could scream there was a rough hand covering your mouth. Your eyes moved towards the owner's hand and was met with icy-blue eyes.

Oddly enough, you weren't shaking. Instead you were trying to get his hand off of your mouth, which he found annoying by the looks of it. Slamming your body into the door, you let out a wimper but managed to glare at the male. 

"Stop.ignoring.me." He growled out each word. You watched as his free hand went to look for something in his pocket and you tried to backaway. Closing your eyes, you were expecting him to take out his knife. Instead, the sound of keys made you open your eyes. He was holding a pair of keys, confusion settled on your eyes.

"And after I go through all the trouble of cleaning up your room, and this is how you fucking repay me? by ignoring me?" He rolled his eyes and you quickly combined one and one together. Frankly, you weren't even sure if you were scared or disgusted by the thought that he had actually been inside your bedroom.

No. He had keys to your bedroom. Probably both.

"Don't make a noise." He ordered and dropped his hand from your mouth. He didn't even wait to see if you would run away, he just dropped his hands. The two of you stared at each other for what felt like the longest time in the world.

"Why..." you asked, barely above a whisper. He seemed intriguided by your response, because he raised an eyebrow.

"What was that?"

"Why... wh-how are you doing this?" You shook your head, frowning. You didn't even care that his gaze had flickered to your hand, the one that was trembling and trying to find the doorknob. In fact, he looked like he was enjoying this too much.

"You'll have to be more especific doll." He grinned and you swallowed back the 'don't call me "doll" you freak.'

"How are you moving so easily through out the school without anyone noticing?" You wanted to also ask why you were the one being targeted exactly.

"Oh." He clicked his tongue. "Well, it just so happens that when Jeff The Killer wants something-" He eyed you from head to toe and you shuddered. 

"There's absolutely nothing that can stop me. Plus, you're alive, so it must mean that you also want something from this little game."


	11. 11

Yes, as a matter of fact. You did want something from all of this.

For him to leave you alone.

Alas, you didn’t voice your thoughts because even an idiot would realize that that request wasn’t going to be granted any time soon, _if_ at all. Jeff –that’s his name right? You’re calling him Jeff from now on because it gets tiring saying ‘this guy’ ‘killer’ in your mind, anything’s better than those titles. It makes him seem more humane… at least to ease you even if a bit- would probably laugh and kill you with your own set of keys.

With your lack of response and the seconds ticking by, you didn’t miss when Jeff took a step towards you, instinctively out of fear you walked back into the door, or at least tried to, only to remember that you couldn’t and whatever space between the two was shortly lived. 

The key’s jingled in his hand before he grabbed your free hand, the one that wasn’t behind you –now laid at rest because you wouldn’t be able to open the door even if you wanted to- and placed the keys on your hand, he closed your fingers and held your hand there for an awkward amount of time. His eyes hadn’t parted from your face and you still hadn’t parted your eyes from his. Mainly concentrating on his eyes. 

It was probably the most irrational decision and thoughts, but his eyes were nothing but beautiful and it somehow managed to make you forget that his scarred face was nothing more than a thing to scare people out, he probably did that. Scare people with his face, in the small amount of shock and fear, he’d kill the person. 

At least, that’s what you thought. Seeing as that was what also happened to you.

Finally, he let go of your hand and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. Your eyes flickered briefly to the side and out the windows where you could see the other students already walking inside the main building. Desperation settled in the pit of your stomach and you shifted on your feet.

“Seeing as you’re not going to talk, I’ll set some rules in here.” His voice snapped you out of your thinking and you looked back at him, quickly regretting it. When had he gotten closer? You could now smell the distinct aroma of something sweet and you were somewhat baffled. It wasn’t blood, it wasn’t a putrid or rotting smell, he smelled nice and it was concerning in the least.

“First of all, you don’t get to ignore me. You answer me when I call and you don’t say anything. Okay?” He asked you, one finger poking you in your chest and you nodded.

What else could you do anyways?

“Second; You sleep in your room from now on, I don’t want you with that pesky little friend of yours anymore.” You opened your mouth to protest but he quickly interrupted you with an ‘ah ah ah’ 

“No buts. Unless you want her head as a commemorative decoration in your wall.” He replied, his finger digging lower into your chest, right in the middle. You watched as it travelled towards the hem of the shirt before he raised it up. Your arms instantly flinched and you wanted to pull your shit down, but with the way he glanced up at you, you knew it was a bad idea.

“Lastly, you don’t hide the scars.” He grinned at your expression; clearly not okay with the last rule, when you opened your mouth to protest you were surprised he made no effort to restrict your speech or to deny it.

“No. You- I’m hiding them. It’s not fair, what will the other say? I can’t let them think it’s all suicidal tendencies.” You spoke, fast, shaken, you were anxious. You couldn’t even begin to describe what it felt like to think about people seeing the scars, asking questions, questions that will obviously spread and you didn’t want the nuns to know. 

You’ll probably be dead by the time they go to question you.

You shivered lightly when Jeff’s hands gripped your hips, fingers lightly and sometimes adding pressure, to the scars. His eyes set on them, especially the older ones. His thumb brushed it and he applied a bit too much pressure to bring discomfort. You flinched away from his grasp and he chuckled. 

“Let them  think what they want-“ He says, not really concentrating on you but more on your skin, his fingers felt rough and foreign on your skin and you felt like throwing up with his caresses in your stomach. You didn’t even notice when he had undone the last three buttons of your shirt, but he had and his hands were travelling upwards.  “I personally find that scars suit you just fine.” He tapped your sides before looking up at you.

You gulped, sweat collecting at your temples. Shouldn’t lunch be over by now? Was this classroom going to be filled in? Would someone notice you were missing? Karmelia briefly flashed on your mind but it was quickly gone when Jeff tugged at the sweater. 

“Take it off. Or I’m cutting it off.” He states, doesn’t really make much movement to let you take the sweater off, but you still try despite feeling extremely uncomfortable under his gaze. You really want to speak, be defiant, and scream and shout but words lack you.

You’re scared and reminded of times where your stubbornness got you in trouble, if you had been more docile, complaint, then maybe you could’ve gotten out unscathed. Now in a situation of life and death, you weren’t feeling so hard-headed right now.

Anything as long as it means you keep being alive. Plus, it was only your sweater right? It was best if he didn’t damage it, Karmelia would throw a fit.

The moment the sweater hits the floor, his hands grip your arms, and he turns to look at them. He scans the cuts, now scarred, with a smile on his face. He adds pressure into his grip and doesn’t really say anything. He opens his mouth and closes it, before bringing one of your arms to his chest, he leans in closer until your hand’s in between your body, and his and your breath mixes with his. 

Jeff’s hips are pressed against yours and you can feel your breathing start to hitch, finding it incredibly hard to breath in and out. Even your heart begins to pick up and you try to do your best to remain calm, but you’re shaking slightly and he definitely notices it. You try your best to keep your heart beating down, trying to imitate his.

You can feel the distinct sound of it; it’s soft but calm. Your ears warm when you think about the fact that maybe he could hear your erratic and growing heartbeat.

You don’t say anything, but try to push him off a bit –though it results on his nails digging into your wrists which emits from you a startled whine, to which he laughs, deeply and low- when he rests his head on your shoulder.

His black hair is now somewhat in your field of vision and you ignore the tears willing to spill out. His breathing is in the crook of your neck, warm and bringing familiar, but not wanted memories. His fingers, the ones belonging to the hand that’s not being crushed between chests, move up and down slowly in soft caresses.

His head turns a bit and you can feel his breathing on your ears. You _know_ he’s grinning, that the stitches that were once again back in the scars pull against the unwanted stretch of his skin.

“I’m not wrong, marks do really look good on you.” He comments lowly before nibbling on your ear, liking the way you whimpered and tried to pull away, it wasn’t even a strong bite, his teeth were on your earlobe before he began to trail down, lips brushing your skin.

If you weren’t shaking earlier, you were now. Your fingers itched to hurt him, push him away, but you didn’t even know where his knife was and he could do damage to you right now and you weren’t exactly looking forward to it.

Besides, it wouldn’t be good to infuriate him, and with that thought in mind. You made no effort to even stand up, preferring to use the door as your way to support your back.

Jeff’s teeth scrapped the crook of your neck before his tongue ran over the spot, repeating the motion a couple of times until he grew bored and began to actually _bite_ on the spot. Making you cry out softly in discomfort and clear pain, his lips quirked upwards at the reaction before repeating, this time harder which made you wiggle and push forward, trying to get him off of you.

You weren’t given much space to do so, despite the fact that you actually managed to stumble him back a couple of steps, before he pinned you back into the door with a loud ‘thud’ and thrusting his hips forward, something resembling a growl escaped his lips before he let go of your other hand, instead settling his on your hips.

“Sto-“ You let out a moan mid-sentence, Jeff stopped for a second and your eyes widened. Tears had already begun to drip freely, and you instantly wanted to die. Hated how he snickered before attacking the same spot that had managed to cause the reaction from you, you felt dirty. 

You felt extremely dirty, you hated how your body seemed to react to the unwanted touching and sucking and God, he wasn’t going to stop was he?

You could hear the halls already beginning to liven up with the chatter. Some really close to the door.  You were hoping for someone to try and open the door so you could be left alone. But it didn’t even seem like an intelligent idea, Jeff was still biting –you were sure he pierced skin because his tongue was swirling around the spot and it stung- and you knew that if you opened your mouth to call out for help, sounds –it didn’t matter whether from pain or actual pleasure- that would make him even eager to continue his assault would come out.

You had been biting your lip and managed to probably split it, you could taste the copper taste of blood in your tongue.

When you thought that you couldn’t take it anymore and wanted to just leave, he stopped. Leaning backwards to look at your flustered face, the remnants of tear trails still damping your red cheeks. His eyes had turned a darker shade of blue and you didn’t even know if it was because of the lightning or your blurry vision, but there was a change on them.

Something that you were very aware of what it was.

It left a messy string of words flow out of your mouth in silent pleas for him to stop. When you closed your eyes and began to cry, he grabbed your chin with his free hand and tilted it forward, you didn’t want to see him.

“…This suits you so much better.” He mumbled something else that didn’t reach your ears, and quite frankly, you really didn’t even want to know what it was. 

Then just as that small break had begun, it ended when he dug his fingers even more into your hip, drawing out another hiss and complaining noise from you.  He had let go of your hand and it felt numb, extremely numb, you weren’t very much aware of it. Two hands free and you still couldn’t do anything with them; you didn’t even have the willpower. 

His thumb brushed your lip and you opened your eyes. The red contrasted highly against his pale complexion and you watched as his thumb was then coated in saliva, tongue going over the blood. He smirked when he saw your disgusted expression before leaning in and biting your lower lip. 

Jeff didn’t waste anytime in attacking your lips, a messy clash of teeth on teeth and lips and blood was definitely in the mix. Somewhere along the way, it was more of lips together, a pair unmoving, and the other rough needy. His tongue moved around the insides of your mouth and when he grounded his hips into yours, you let out another sound, this one muffled by his mouth.

He smirked, did the same motion again and when he was rewarded with yet another sound, one that left you feeling disgusted but there was a prominent tent in his pants that was brushing rather closely to your inner tight, higher. You couldn’t help yourself. 

Panic began to settle into your mind once you realized he was still thrusting, still kissing. You knew that if you didn’t put a stop to this he would take things further and it was one thing _this stuff_ but taking it to another level…

It made your insides twist nauseatingly.

You were going to push him away a little, head feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen. Instead, you let out a squeak when fingers prodded at your underwear and your eyes widened when movement was made. Finding strength from out of nowhere, you pushed him a bit, just enough for your noses to be touching.

You could see he was flustered a bit, and it was all starting to click together through your haze. His fingers still hadn’t left, a string of saliva connecting your mouths. Fury and fear began to seep into your vision before you grit your teeth, face becoming a contour of anger, pushing him harshly now. 

It took him by surprise this time, because he stumbled back and fell to the floor. If he could’ve blinked, he would’ve. He looked surprised, enraged, amused.

You on the other hand, were breathing deeply and roughly. Body shaking wholly, the halls were beginning to sound empty and your heart felt like it was killing you. You felt dizzy, sick to the core. 

You watched as Jeff brought up his fingers, fingers that were coated on something –you didn’t even want to acknowledge it because you felt wet and utterly disgusted of yourself – before he brought it up to his lips, grinning maliciously when you recoiled. 

“You’re disgusting!” Disbelief clear in your voice, you turned to find the knob –though a part of your brain yelled at you for turning your back on the _killer_ and once you did open it, stepping outside quickly and closing the door behind you. You picked up your book bag, ignored the looks from the couple of students remaining in this hall, and ran towards the bathrooms. 

Once inside them, your legs gave in once you entered a stall. Leaning over the toilet, you felt the contents from your lunch spill out, leaving you light-headed and sleepy. You laid your head on the stall-walls and tried to cry.

You couldn’t though; you didn’t even find the strength to button up your shirt or lock the stall. So you simply lay there, hoping for everything that’s good that he wouldn’t follow you into the bathroom.


	12. 11.5

_White… how calming._

_  
You blinked slowly at the walls, breathing deep and calmly into your wrist, hair obstructing half your vision as the sound of hushed chatter came across the room. You could feel eyes on your form, yet you never dared to turn and face them, you could almost hear and feel the sorrow that came from your guardians. Your mother was sobbing, you guessed. Hard to tell when all you could hear was something akin to silence but quite not there._

 

_In fact, you weren't even sure if you were even awake at the moment._

 

_Time seemed to slow down a whole lot. From the moment they found you in a park, left naked and wounded and disoriented, to the questioning and the attention you were getting from both nurses and doctors. You would stare at them, try to not break down and cry because nothing was wrong._

 

_Why were they saying you were a rape victim? You were okay, you weren't violated. You're a good person, things like those didn't happen, it never happened to your friends or relatives, why should it happen to you? It was a ridiculous idea that made your stomach churn, with laughter? Doubt? It was a stupid thought, really stupid._

 

_It almost made you feel like they were telling lies about you, lies that despite you saying how things really went, no one bought. They all looked at you with the same eyes, that stupid feeling of pity present in every single orb that gazed down upon your form._

 

_How you hated that look.  
_

_  
Pity only made you recall their stupid lies, how they claimed that you were assaulted, and how they would be getting the guys who did this to you. They won't find anyone, you'd say, you were never raped. Things like those only happened in  **movies**._

 

_You were okay.  
  
_ You'd say, you were okay, I am fine please  **s t o p**  asking!   
  


____ __ __ __ __ __ __._ _ _ _

______ __ __ __ __ __ __._ _ _ _ _ _

 

___  
  
_Men s c a r e you. You realize one day, your father speaks to you about wanting to sign you up for self-defense lessons and you nod your head like the good kid you are, but you do so in order to not look at him in the eyes. His eyes remind you of someone you're not fond of, you scare away from his touch and cringe when he speaks to you. You become wary when he lowers his voice and lowers his stance to be able to crouch and look at you and he demands for you to look at me you haven't looked at me in  **MONTHS**

__  
  
I'm your father, I'm not going to H U R T YOU

_  
  
They also said that.  
and they lied.  
_

_____ why should I  T R U S T   **You**?  
  
Sometimes, actions speak louder than words.   
Your father learned this the hard way  
when his little angel no longer clinged to him  
when staying in the room went from being  
awkward to sad  
to frustrating  
_to depressing  
And a small part of you, the one that was afraid of touch and afraid of the looks, would sigh in relief and speak to you when you were clouded with guilt (because it's not his fault stop treating him like this) and that little voice, would speak little soothing words and tell you everything's fine. Don't trust their lies.  
  
You're okay. You're not wrong nor were you tainted.

__  
  
It does a strain in your relationship with your family. Your father no longers look at you, he doesn't speak to you. Not because he doesn't care, your mother spoke to him, you're sure of it. When you're locked in your room and you stare at the walls (they're not white and therefore you are safe from the lies) and you can hear through the walls his agony and pain and demands to know if he's responsible, if he's the one at fault here. Your mother calms him down.

__  
  
Let [Name] take her time, the doctor said this is normal in victims. She's in denial.  


_  
No. They're wrong, they're the ones in denial._

_  
  
And you stay looking at the walls inside your room because lies and memories do not come in here. You are safe from the voice that sounds just the opposite of yours, from the touch of bigger hands, from the looks, no matter what. But they look and observe and they all want the same thing.  
  
 _._ _._ _.__

_  
  
She was looking for it.  
She probably enjoyed it.  
_If she was actually raped she wouldn't  **d e n y**  it.

__  
  
You lower your head and skip out on meals. You only hang out with the girls who don't bring on the subject that is not a subject because it's fake. The others get frustrated and call you a whore when you deny something that never happened, and more rumors start to arise that come from the first one. And you get frustrated, because hearing this stories make your stomach want to throw its contents out.  


__  
_The other girls still give you **t h e**  look but you learn to deal with it. You smile and laugh with them, you feel safe._ ___(you're not exactly sure why but when they bring their boyfriends along you evade them at all costs)__ _ _and you don't get to feel safe when people CONSTANTLY mock you__ _ _they pester__ _ _ask__ _ _and annoy__ _ _and when you finally snap and break down and cry__ _ _you can't do much.__ _ _They lose interest.__ _ _  
__(good, that is good please do not pay attention)  
  
  
.  
_ ___ _ ___ _ __._ _

__.  
__.  
  
  
She gives you nothing more than two suitcases. You never check the contents, instead you're slowly starting to realize that there is a sound that is slowly coming back into your life. Your mother speaks of a school.  
  
You instantly scowl  
  
It's entirely for females.  
  
                                               Why am I going there?  
                                                                                                       You're getting help.

____  
  
You ache to deny that there's nothing to help, but a small part tells you that this is great. amazing, spectacular.

____  
It's a new beginning with no guys. You can overcome the fear that came out of nowhere.  
You accept, there's one condition. 

____  
You'll get H E L P  
and you do. 

____  
And it's the best thing you've done in your life.  
   
                                                                          Then you meet him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of an interlude?   
> I'm finally free from school so expect updates that you won't have to wait years to get.


	13. 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I updated. Also, 12/25 chapters.  
> Progress.

   "How do you feel?"  
  
You blinked slowly at the questions, eyes strained upwards into the white ceiling. It's familiar, you bitterly think. The whole room is familiar in the way that you hate. You had spent most of your time in this stupid room for the first school year that you were in the academy. The only difference now was that you adorned scars in every single part of your body, horrible reminders that made you want to claw your skin out, the numbness that no longer was in your body, replaced by a new found rage and urge to puke because you felt disgusting.  
  
Pathetic.  
  
       "How do you feel?"   
  
The woman asks again and this time you do look at her, you look at her the tenth time she questions you and you stare. Because that's all you can do, you can speak, you don't feel blocked anymore, more shocked and angry than anything. But not enough to limit your responses - you had slowly began to learn that you were here to get help, not to get scolded or blamed. It wasn't your fault.  
  
So why did you feel so useless? It almost felt unreal, you felt like you were an spectator rather than being inside your body. [eye color] eyes searched the woman's face for a sign of mock or annoyance, yet the woman displayed no such emotions, instead she seemed to look sad for you. No. She felt pity, so you look somewhere else.  
  
You look around the office, it has always been a nice quiet place with various frames in the wall, each one of them with a bible verse and the occasional one with landscapes and other miscellaneous pictures. A sofa with various pillows - soft to the touch -  a desk, a bookshelf, off to the distance near the window there was a fish-tank with a couple of goldfish. You decide to keep your gaze on the fishes.   
  
       "I feel..." You taste the words in your mouth, unconsciously rubbing your arm, the long sleeved sweater seemed suffocating at the moment but also made you feel safe, "I feel disgusting."  
  
       "I feel useless, pathetic, worthless. I feel like I didn't deserve what happened to me yet it happened, so am I wrong to think that maybe I deserved all of this?" You turn to look at the woman, she's writing something down in her pad and you instantly remember that all of your files had gone missing. The thought made your stomach clench. Right, missing.  
  
Just like how Samantha's had gone missing a week before she died.  
  
When Karmelia had found out that you had been in the bathrooms with half of your clothes hanging from your body or tore, she had called upon every single nun in the school. Three days ago, and yet it all seemed like yesterday. You hadn't been feeling physically well those days so you never gave a reasonable answer so everyone assumed you had been suffering panic attacks and flashbacks of the incident. The cuts were seen as self-harm and you were once again made to attend the school's psychologist. Schedules and classes postponed for you, you found yourself staying in the office the whole school hours.  
  
You weren't complaining much, because it meant not having to see people. It meant that Karmelia wouldn't be asking questions and wouldn't be making you lie again, because when you did you felt awful, it meant that you could ignore anyone who knocked on your door and could excuse it as your condition not allowing you. But in all honesty, you just felt out of place. It was weird and disgusting thinking about what happened, but you were more vivid with fury than anything else.  
  
Your body just didn't let you act upon it, instead deciding to feel heavy, unusually heavy.  
  
When the woman doesn't answer your question, you sit up from the lounge chair and ask again. "Did I deserve all of this?"  
  
The woman looked at you and pursed her plum lips into a straight line, her eyes settled on your's, "No. [Name] there are a lot of bad people in the world, people that do not follow God's way. No one blames you for what happened years ago. If you had been having these episodes of self-harm because of flashbacks, why didn't you say anything?"   
  
Because they're not flashbacks, there's an actual killer on school grounds and if I say anything I'll sound like a maniac. That's what you wanted to say, instead limited yourself to; "Do my parents know?"  
  
       "So you were worried about us calling your parents? Yes, your parents have been contacted, though we still yet to hear from them."  
  
You blinked at the response. How careless could a school be if they did not inform the student's parents right away if something had happened to them? Truthfully, now that you thought about it, it did seem sort of weird that the school hadn't contacted your folks when the first incident occurred. At the time you had paid no attention to the fact that your folks hadn't been contacted nor had they'd made any attempt to reach out to you in any way. Hell, even a letter to show that they at least had you in mind. Although you supposed that when you just woke up covered in blood with temporary memory loss the last thing in your mind would be to have the school contact your parents.  
  
Not that you had a bad relationship with them. Well, it wasn't that bad.  
  
       "Am I allowed to call them?" You asked after a prolonged pause. Sitting up and putting your hands on your lap.   
  
The woman nodded, somewhat amused at the sudden change in your demeanor. Whereas before you were barely cooperative, now you held what seemed to her a slight amount of interest on something. It wasn't interest in what the woman wanted your attention on, but at least it was something.  
  
       "The phone is on the desk b- oh, alright. I'll give you some privacy." The woman stood up and walked out the door, you watched her as she hesitated on her step once she opened the door and looked back at you. Phone in ear and waiting for someone to pick up.  
  
       "Ten minutes okay?" She meant it more as a statement than a question, but the point was clear. You gave her a curt nod before she closed the door with a soft click.  
  
As you waited, you fumbled with the phone cord, twisting it between your fingers and shifting your weight on your feet. There was something oddly feeling like anxiety setting itself in your stomach at the thought of talking to your parents. This was your last year in the academy and you haven't seen your parents in three years, it was mainly for your safety and recovery. The animals - they weren't human - that had done you wrong where still out there free and because you hadn't been able to see their face correctly you could have never identified them.  
  
Promises of that happening again rang in your ears and you shook your head.  
  
There was no point on thinking about it.   
  
You felt your heart leap with joy when the call was picked up. You didn't even ask who it was at the other side of the line, the words were already flying out of your mouth too quickly. It had to be one of your parents, with no siblings or other family members living in the household, it was only logical that one of them was bound to pick it up.  
  
        "- everything's been so erratic the last couple of months, I really really want to leave. Home-school me, I don't care. Just get me away from this place." You were beginning to tug at the cord now, desperation dripping from your voice. You didn't even think about mentioning anything about your stalker, he - and you really did not want to call him Jeff because it meant that you were familiarized with him - wasn't important.   
  
You also weren't sure if calls where recorded, having to explain a stalker was hard, having to explain your desperate need to exit the school was easier.  
  
        "I miss you both so much, so  _so mu_ \- I- hello?" You furrowed your eyebrows when you heard what sound faintly like a chuckle.  
  
        " _Well, you seem eager to get rid of me, pumpkin._ " The voice at the other side almost made you manage to drop the phone. Instead, you clutched to it harshly and looked around the room.  _Where was he?_  
  
        "..."  
  
        " _What? are you getting shy on me?_ " Again, he chuckled and then there was some shuffling, and what sounded like papers being moved, " _If I recall correctly you only have ten minutes and you and I know that the call you wanted to make is not going to be possible. So I'm going to let you in on a little secret..."_  
  
He trailed off and you took a shaky breath. You swore you could almost hear him frown.  
  
        " _I **said** , I'm gonna let you in on a little secret._" You didn't even need to be told again to know that he was expecting a verbal answer from your part. Maybe scared? You were certainly not going to give him that at all.  
  
As if he could see you, you frowned and clicked your tongue. You weren't scared, well, maybe not entirely, but frustration was beginning to overpower that feeling.  
  
        " _Pumpkin?_ "   
  
        "My name's not  _'pumpkin'._ What do you want? _"_  
  
        "You recall that game of ours right, doll?" You could feel eyes on you all of the sudden, and gulped, a cold shiver running down your spine, " _Let's just say I'm not exactly entertained. Don't get me wrong, what happened a few days prior was something I through out enjoyed and would love to repeat, and_ **finish**."  
  
You looked around the room, then at the clock. Four minutes down, six to go.  
  
        "So?"  
  
        " _So. 'So' means that I am bored, and when I get bored I move on to the next plaything and it just so happens that I have a certain person in mind for the job. The thing is, you are too fun and it would be such a waste to just dump you after I've marked you."_  
  
You frowned, it took no genius to know who he was targeting after you. However, you didn't even want to think about it. Instead, you settled on tasting how his words sounded. ' _when I get bored I move on to the next plaything'_ and your mind instantly pictured Samantha's body and you closed your eyes.  
  
That meant he was going to kill you and move on to-  
  
        "So... what you're saying is you- _I_ need to find a way to keep you entertained?" You asked, hesitant.  
  
Even from here, not being able to see him, you could picture him smiling, the thread at the side of his face pulling against his white skin.   
  
        " _Pretty and smart. I have quite the eye. Keep it up and things will look bright for you."_  
  
In other words; keep me amused and you don't get killed, no one gets hurt.   
In other words, you keep up the act of slowly losing your mind and get to  _live_.  
  
As much as it pained you to choose an option, you knew that being alive was your better chance of finding help. Maybe not this week, maybe not this month, but hopefully by the time that the last day of school comes along, maybe he'd be stopped.  
  
        " _Anyhow, I've got something that might interest you._ " you could pick up the sound of paper again, " _face the window._ "  
  
You instantly turned to look at the window, expecting him to be there standing all creepily. It wouldn't surprise you, in fact, you weren't even going to question how exactly he had managed to hack into the phone line. If he could move as he pleased on school grounds, what's hacking a line to him? Your eyes moved towards a tree, a bit far from the school ground, not because it was there. But because you saw movement.  
  
It took you a second to realize it was him, and you noticed that if he had been sporting the white hoodie, you would've spotted him instantly. However, all he sported where the black skinny jeans and a black shirt. When he locked eyes with you, or at least you supposed that's what it was, he waved.  
  
        " _Consider it a present, it's not fair if I leave you in the dark for too long. I know it's frustrating."_ He waved something in his hands, a pale yellow color, and there were two of them. " _Come pick these up whenever you feel like it."_  
  
        "What is it?" You asked, squinting to get a better view. The only thing you caught sight of was of him climbing higher on the tree and placing the stuff in a high branch. Asshole.  
  
        " _It's a present. Didn't you ever get one for your birthday? God I swear I-_ **Smile,turn around and say goodbye add an 'I love you too'** _."_  
  
You were momentarily confused on what he meant when you heard the sound of the door opening. Doing as he said, you tried to erase the look you had on your face, a look a kid who just spoke to their parents shouldn't have.  
  
        "I um, yeah... bye... take care." You heard the click and then let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Placing the phone down, you gave the woman a small smile.  
  
        "Everything alright?" She asked and you shook your head, already making your way towards the door.  
  
        "Um,  _yeah_.  _I-_  I just need some fresh air."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
You weren't exactly lying when you said you needed fresh air.   
  
The moment you stepped out of that room it felt like a ton of weight had been lifted from your chest and you found yourself trying to take as much air as possibly. At this rate, you were most likely to pass out by all of the air. You instantly made a beeline towards the nearest bathroom, thankful that it was still school hours, and instantly made your way towards the washstand, turning the facet on and splashing your face with the cold water. Not really caring that the sleeved began to soak up the water.  
  
God, you felt like he was luring you out to a trap. It had to be! There was no way that whatever it was that he stored up in that tree was something closely remote to being socially acceptable. Still, it managed to stay in your mind for the next couple of minutes. Before long, curiosity began to be like a pest inside your mind, nagging, begging you to go and find out what he wanted to give you.  
  
You were outside and near the tree you had spotted him, looking around the yard, not really expecting anyone to be there anyways, and then you looked up. From your spot you could make out just a little of the things, which you deduced as being two folders.   
  
  
        "I hope this is enough entertainment for you, you ass." You muttered and closed in on the tree.  
  
Climbing trees shouldn't be that hard, right?


	14. 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been distracted with other fanfics I'm working on. I was supposed to end this series on July, but eh, July already ended. Not even gonna excuse myself out of this one.  
> This is the longest chapter to date.

It took you at least ten minutes of failed attempts at trying to climb the tree before you gave up completely and instead decided to sulk against the tree. Forehead covered in a fine layer of sweat and your breathing coming in difficultly, you opted to sit down and clear your head, frustration was beginning to cloud your reasoning and you knew that the bastard had only done this to rile you up.

Much to your pride and dismay, it was working. Not that you’d actually go and show it – if he was actually watching from wherever it was that he hid – and give him the benefit of seeing your frustration. Curiosity was something that was going to get you killed one of these days, you just knew it. Either that or the psychopath who thought all of this was a game.

Though, you’d rather think about something else. The fact that this was nothing more than an amusing game for him to play along and drag you into made you feel sick. This was your life you were playing with and for everything that’s good in the world you were hoping – no, praying – that he wasn’t growing bored with your actions and reactions to his methods of what he considered fun. You just needed enough time to finally graduate, summer was almost coming along and with it your graduation. You just needed enough time to go back to your town or the nearest prison to alert them of the killer and finally be freed of him.

You could always go and alert the nuns, they would most likely do something and believe you. You had no reason to lie and you were sure that whatever you told them would be considered true, what’s with everything that’s been going on – and you were sure that if he could move along the school grounds with such ease, then maybe someone else might have spotted him.

The only flaw to the problem was that if you did break his rules, not only where you putting your life in danger – and you needed to be alive, to be able to tell someone that can do something about him so no other person would end up in your situation, or ended up like Samantha – but other people’s as well. If you waited until you graduated then you could cut ties with everyone and hopefully not endanger anyone else.

You just needed time, and apparently you would only get it if you just played along – and even you weren’t sure of that, for all you knew he was just playing this hopeful card to get you to keep fighting only for him to reveal the truth later on.

You briefly wondered what else he would expect from you, the scars on your body were now seen as self-harm attempts which were good in a way, it meant that you didn’t have to explain some nasty ones and left you with something more to preoccupy your mind with. Let them create their own lies; let them think something that’s not completely the true. You could deal with that, what you couldn’t deal with was the touching.

It was almost like he knew, he knew the touching was something that made you retreat back to your safe-zone and made you less… you. Reduced you to nothing more than a quiet and scared mess. How or why he had gotten so much information of you was something beyond you, though you had a hunch that maybe the folders had some sort of explanation. As far as you were concerned he hadn’t seen you or even known about you until that horrible day.

Jeff – no, you’re not even going to think about his name. You didn’t need to feel familiar with it – had been stalking Samantha for a couple of months already, or so it seemed. It did make sense now that you thought about it. You hadn’t personally known the blonde up until the rumors of a killer started to spread out through out the school – how would things have played out if you hadn’t been cleaning the art room that day and hadn’t heard the principal talking about it? – And even after you did, you had no intentions of actually befriending her.

You spotted her a couple of times more in the months when things settled down and actually had lunch with her a couple of times, what at the time seemed like stress and probably PTSD symptoms of having watched her neighbors slaughtered by someone was just thought to be the cause of the rumors. It was painfully obvious, she was scared out of her mind and why she began to wear jackets, sweaters, why her eyes spotted dark bags under them. She seemed twitchy and jumpy, like she was expecting someone to scare her at any time.

It was so obvious but no one noticed, so you didn’t either. Being in a private school meant stress and most students looked like that so no one batted an eyelash, because she hadn’t made any attempt at seeking people out. Then one day she just sat down alone in the middle of the hall and smiled and cried her eyes out. It wasn’t long before she began to attend the counseling office.

Then again, you weren’t sure when. You never tried to get close, everything you knew was because of Karmelia – God bless her soul – because she was worried over the poor little girl. Gosh, you remembered what you told her, to stop fussing over something that’s probably hormones, the girl was probably going to puberty and the starting teenage years were always the worst.

You cringed slightly at the memory, and here you are now. Going through what Samantha was going through, except that you have managed to bring attention to it, not enough, but now people where aware that something was wrong. You just needed to play your cards right… if you had any to begin with.

Letting out a breath, you stood up from your spot and looked up once more at the tree. That was enough time to sulk and think about things, you just didn’t want to think about Samantha anymore. That and you were sure that it was almost time for the period change anyways and the thought of having people look out the windows and see you climbing a tree only made you more determined to get the folders quickly and retreat to your bedroom.

You were also hoping to avoid your group of friends, chatting today just seemed like it might add to the headache that was surely to come on later in the night. Sleeping pills were a no now after what had happened last time. You didn’t even know how long you had gone without sleep but your insomnia had gotten worse through out the last couple of days. The headaches were more common with each passing day.

“Okay, I can do this.” You licked your lips and closed in on the tree, wrapped your arm around it and began to climb up, the sole of your shoes digging into the bark as leverage and you pushed upwards. Teeth clenched as you managed to cover more and more space between the items and yourself; you managed to climb up into a nearby branch and looked at it. It didn’t seem sturdy enough to support your weight, which quite frankly was disheartening but you sucked it up, you were close really.

You climbed up a bit more and stopped when your fingers – the ones attached to your free hand – managed to grip the corner of the two folders and you tugged, managing to get them both free at the same time from the place they were wedge in the branch and not letting any of the papers inside fall from the inside. You felt a smile stretch out on your lips as a sense of victory warmed your body.

Then you looked down and sighed.

While you weren’t exactly at a dangerous height if you fell from the tree, lets say, to cause your death if you slipped, it was still high enough that if you fell you could break a part of your body. So you managed to go down bit by bit until you were at what you considered a decent height and jumped down.

A hiss slipped out of your mouth when your feet collided with the grass, the shock of it running from them up to your legs and then to the rest of your body, doubling over and taking a deep breath you closed your eyes. Gripping the folders in your hand you let out a small laugh. Okay, that was a stupid idea.

Still…

Your eyes wandered to the folders in your hand, gripping them seemed to make the burning in your hand increase. It felt wrong holding them, you were almost afraid of opening them and seeing what information they held inside. Your brain ran wild with thoughts; maybe pictures of yourself, maybe of dead bodies, probably information about your family – or Samantha’s, your brain provided and you shoved that back into the darkest pits of your mind – or it could be anything really.

The curiosity was a nagging, fastidious little thing. And yet, with a bite of your lip and more than a couple of minutes standing there looking at the files, you decided to head back to your room – which honestly, you were beginning to love the idea of not having a roommate anymore for the meantime – a task that was completed rather quickly, your thoughts filling your mind as your body turned to auto-pilot.

It wasn’t until you were setting the folders down on the stand next to your bed did you blink and looked around, a bit surprised that you had managed to make your way to your bedroom. It was mostly paranoia what you did next, but your body was already moving to check every corner of your small room to see if he was hiding somewhere – though the only play he could hide was underneath the bed and the closet most likely – and once you were done and made sure nothing was out of place, did you start to take off your uniform, replacing it with one of your old shirts – and no pants, because honestly, it’s hot right now and you were alone.

You weren’t planning on getting out of the room any time soon – you glanced at the clock and noticed it was around 3:45PM, that meant that there were about two hours left before the school hours finished – and dinner today didn’t sound like a plan you were willing to stick with. Maybe if you were lucky, sleep would claim you soon and then maybe you could sleep off those hours that had been robbed off of you thanks to the constant anxiety that managed to make itself a permanent place on your body.

(Though a small part of you didn’t want to go to sleep. Your sleep schedule was already messed up to begin with, last thing you needed is for your body to decide that daylight was the perfect time to sleep and the nighttime was to be awake. That wouldn’t do anything good once you managed to get the school’s counselor permission to start assisting class again. While the idea of missing out classes and still have an excuse and be able to pass them was something that you deeply enjoyed of, not to mention the added bonus of not having to socialize because that always led to questions that sooner or later you would not be able to lie your way across, it was still something that you were hoping to avoid, socializing with the girls was what was keeping you solid right now. You couldn’t fathom the thought of giving that up.)

You eyed the folders out of the corner of your eyes before sighing, lying down on the bed and trying to get comfortable enough to see if you could catch a couple of hours of rest before you decided to look at the folders – with a begrudging admitting that you were just putting it off for later because you were scared to find what exactly it was that they held inside. And fear one over nagging curiosity for once.

 

Sleep, surprisingly claimed you the instant you closed your eyes.

 

 

 

“…ey are to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share,” Familiar eyes parted from the book in their lap to gaze at your own orbs with a fondness that made your heart swell with a warmth that you welcomed openly. Shifting on your bed - cozy and warm and smelling of cinnamon – and tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear, you let out a small content sigh.

This was nice, this was home and it was welcoming you with open arms.

From where you could see, everything seemed bigger around your partially dark room – the only light being that of the lamp besides your bed, though your dad was mostly blocking it – and the glow-in-the-dark stars that resided in your ceiling where slowly starting to lose their glow.

 

“Thus storing up treasure for themselves as a good foundation for the future, so that they make take hold of that which is truly life.” Your father finished, and you blinked up at him. He leaned down to place his lips on your forehead and you wrinkled your nose and giggled.

 

“It’s late dear, you need to sleep otherwise you’ll be tired and tomorrow’s the first day of school!” Your father beamed at you, his smile contagious. You found yourself nodding to his every word, “Second grade! Isn’t that exciting?”

You nodded eagerly and watched as he placed the bible next to the lamp. He had come earlier after you asked him a question, which upon trying to remember what it was you couldn’t come up with anything really. The question had received an answer and then he had settled on reading from the bible to answer it.

You felt really happy whenever your dad talked about how much God loves you, and how He would make sure that your first day of class would go amazing. You couldn’t sleep for that exact same reason, you were excited! You couldn’t help but wonder how many kids would become your friends tomorrow.

“I’m sure you´ll m---- ----ew friends an---- we´ll go to th____”

You frowned, your father’s words coming in and out as nothing more than white noise, annoying, crawling on your ears. Fear began to settle in your heart and you sat up, leaving the comfort of your pillow.

“Dad?” You asked, one tiny hand reaching out to touch him. He was still smiling, still talking.

“--- so there is -- but your ----- probably in another wee-- the fool says in his heart,”

You instantly put your arm back into your body and begin to move backwards, until your back hits the wall. There is something bothersome about his voice, coming in and out, wavering, and changing.

“[Name?] is there ------ wr -- they are corrupt ---- is everything oka—there is none who does good,” With his hand stretched out to get a hold of your shoulder, you couldn’t help but cover your ears with yours hands, to block out as much as the sound you could.

This was weird, the voice wasn’t familiar nor comforting, it was similar to a coldness and dread that managed to cling themselves into your heart.

“Please stop talking stop talking stop-“

You took a deep shaky breath and closed your eyes.

“They have all turned aside, together they have become corrupt, there is none who does good, not even one.”

You took another breath and opened your eyes.

Darkness, you were met with darkness.

Covered in cold sweat and still trying to wrap your head around the weird dream – yes, dream, dream. Your heart could stop being so loud now – you brought your knees up to your chest and sighed.

It took you a minute to realize that the room wasn’t completely dark; there was light – orange and flickering – and something resembling the smell of cinnamon. And that the voice you had heard earlier was just you, talking.

Except that no, your lips were moving and saying in a much lower tone what you were hearing, there was another voice. Male, low, slurred. You couldn’t figure out why that was supposed to matter, but it was nagging you in the back of your mind. You couldn’t pinpoint the cause though.

The voice was still talking – no, reading? That sounded like pages being turned – and you found yourself repeating after it.

“-eat bread and do not call upon the the Lord…” Slowly, hesitatingly, your head turned to the side where you found someone sitting down on the floor, supporting their back on the wall. It only took you a second to realize who it was, shockingly enough, you weren’t scared – okay, you were, but something about his demeanor was calm and it was different than usual, which really made you be more alert but you had just woken up – and instead found yourself looking at him.

He was not paying attention to you, his attention was centered on what you suspected was your bible. He was flipping through some of the pages and reading out loud some parts while mumbling others. Besides him laid two bottles which seemed to be devoid of its contents – there was also the smell of alcohol that had begun to register in your brain and you briefly wondered if you could leave without him noticing – and a couple of candles lit up.

Ah, so that’s the light source. You furrowed your eyebrows, why the candles?

You looked towards your nightstand when another thought popped into your mind and noticed that the folders were still there, untouched. On top of them though were a couple of sheets which upon closer notice where what looked like notes. Class notes.

Had Karmelia been inside the room?

“She slid them underneath the door.” The voice startled you; though spoke after your single thought. As if by looking at you he could figure out what was going on through your mind. You really, really tried not to flinch but it happened anyways. Wearily, you turned to look at him again, the bible was on top of one of his hands, lowered to rest on his sprawled out leg. The other holding one of the bottles – previously on the floor and apparently not completely empty – with a loose grip.

His eyes though, which proved to always catch you off guard – beautiful, there was no denying there. The colour was just so… there. So captivating in an odd way – because this was a psychopath killer, but his eyes were always so sharp, knowing. They looked dulled right now, and the way he spoke meant he was drunk.

Or slowly getting there.

You gulped, he kept on talking.

“Four… fouuur hours.” He giggled, waving the bottle around before taking a drink from it. “Four fucking hours. Four hours of boredom, you’re lucky I didn’t do anything to you while you were far away in sleep land.” His tone took a darker edge after he proceeded to curse, he made an attempt to narrow his eyes but with the lack of eyelids it wasn’t possible – though the way his eyes seemed to become darker sent the message across.

Then his eyes trailed downwards to your legs, it took you a second to realize why and you instantly scrambled to get your pillow to cover your legs, the shirt you had put on was doing nothing to cover your underwear and you swore you heard what sounded like ‘tease’ before you managed to put the pillow on top of your lap. Ears going warm, you decided to keep your mouth shut.

More out of fear that in his current state anything that you might say –or do- could make him lash out.

He seemed to notice before scoffing and shifting, bringing one knee upwards. “Not going to talk are ya?” He tilted his head to the side, “No biggie.”

He took another swing at the bottle and you took this opportunity to look at the clock. It was almost going to be 8pm; dinner had been an hour ago. He had been inside the room for four hours. The only reason as to why you weren’t freaking out about it was because there was no place in your body that felt weird and he seemed to have taken his time reading the bible.

It was only after you found yourself staring at the bible in his hand that he decided to keep on talking.

“Y’know I once used to attend church.”

You blinked and looked at him, confusion in your face. Well that came out of nowhere.

The look however, didn’t seem to have bothered him, because he continued, tone a bit darker than before.

“Up until I was twelve in fact, and that was what? Six years ago? Ha! Yeah, stopped though. All that bullshit ‘bout a gold city and walls built of pearls. Peace my ass –“ You found yourself gripping the pillow with too much force, he looked at you as if you would understand his emotions towards all of that, “What kind of “god” says he loves everyone yet casts aside a select group of people… where was he when I needed him?”

The last part you didn't catch, he had gone to muttering it before taking another long shot of the bottle. He eyed the bible before tearing apart a whole bunch of papers and scattering them around him, not closely to the candles.

What was up with the candles anyways?

“There’s some problems with the school’s electricity should be up by tomorrow mornin’.” He replied coolly and you realized that you said that out loud. He gave a shrug and smiled, a glint of mischievousness and there was no doubt that he had done so himself. You didn’t question why he did so, instead rubbed your eyes and tried to hold back a yawn.

You felt tired still, but at least your body wasn’t heavy with exhaustion like earlier. It was still heavy, but in a dull way, you were still teetering on whether to remain awake or going to sleep. He didn’t seem to be in the mood for anything really.

“Did ya look at the folders?” He motioned with his head at the folders and you bit your lip. “Ah ah no I wanna hear ya.” He frowned and placed the bible next to him and pointed at you with the bottle, some of the liquid splashing on his dark jeans.

“Yes.” You answered, though it sounded more like a question than an answer. Despite his current state, he caught on to your lie and frowned.

“I thought you were catholic, lyin’ is bad.” He stood up now and made his way towards the middle of the room, he motioned for you to do the same and you hesitated. Why would you need to sit down in the floor? You were perfectly fine on your bed.

“[Name], don’t make me come get ya.” He warned, smile wiped from his face in an instant and you froze up. Okay, maybe it was a bad idea to get him mad. Still…

With a defeated sigh in your head, you stood up and pulled the shirt down to cover your underwear and sat down in front of him, legs underneath your body. Jeff – He! He. – hummed in clear contentment before scooting forward, and despite the protest that was about to leave your lips, wrapped his arms around your frame and pulled you forward.

You found yourself flooded with the smell of alcohol and what you suspected was the lingering smell of blood on his form. Your face was buried on his chest and his fingers were lightly tracing your stiff back. Jeff didn’t say anything, instead opting to remain quiet for what seemed like forever before he inhaled and pulled back – not enough for you to be able to look at his face, his long hair was in the way – but the motions on your back didn’t stop.

“Again, did ya look at the folders?”

You shook your head.

“See, that wasn’t that bad.” He chuckled before moving to place his head on your shoulder, his breathing on the crook of your neck made your body stiffen and hands clench, you wanted to push him away. “I’ll be honest, ‘cause you’re not bein’ honest with me.”

At this, you couldn’t help but frown, swallowing down the anxiety that had begun to creep up your spine. The motions he was doing, instead of scaring you, were sort of calming, much to your surprise.

“I want to take you apart, I want to scar you, mark you. I want you to get scared whenever I’m near but still not enough for you to hesitate when I call you.” He hummed contentedly, as if picturing what he was saying was something that he would enjoy. “I want you to fear me and crave my touch.”

As if to emphasize, he broke whatever space between the two and began to suck on your neck, providing a whimper from your part. You could feel the smile on his lips as one hand moved from your back and into your head, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling so he could get better access to your neck.

His hands wandered lower and your brain began to panic. Trying to get out of his grasp with little pushes – which you were hoping that in his current state he wouldn’t mind much – before he stopped.

And let you go.

You quickly moved back until you hit your bed, looking at Jeff to see what he’d do next, it certainly wasn’t what you were expecting him to do. He smiled at you before lying down on the floor and putting an arm over his eyes.

“Go on, I’m not leavin’ until you start readin’.”The tone in his voice – and you wondered how if the words were slurred – was final.


	15. 14

As much as you’d love to say that you ran away from the room, out into the ( presumably ) dark halls and called for help, what’s with all of the students right next to your room – because there’s no possible way that if you got out and had an army of people protecting you, that Jeff’d kill everyone in sight just to get to you, it just wasn’t possible, _right?_ – And finally managed to escape the clutches he had on you, on everyone surrounding you, it just wasn’t true.

Okay, it’s true that this is a perfect chance that must’ve been coming from a long time now, because he’s drunk on his butt and not even paying attention to you in the slightest, and it means that there’s a certain chance of escape. Of freedom, so slim but small and perfect that you could almost _taste it_.

But in reality, all that held you back were yourself. Your thoughts, the bitter and cruel possibilities of what might happen if you tried to escape. You knew what he's capable of when sober, you really didn't want to find out what he's able to do when drunk - because as it stands, human beings tend to be more animalistic when deprived of common sense, and this guy here, he's not something human, because humans at least know what consequences come from taking away human lives, and this guy here, he thrives on it, it's the light on his rainy day - and even if drunk he might be more slow, less life-threatening, time still went on.

You could escape, maybe find help, get him locked up, but in the end, a part of your brain, small and taunting and venomous, always reminded you that you could _end up like Samantha._ She also ran away, she also tried to live her life, and now she's dead.

( You wonder, bitterly, if someone else might watch your death, like you did with Samantha, and if that person would also end up on your position. )

Your choices as it were, limited, only left you in a state of procrastination, because in the end the only available option was to open the folder, check the contents and hope that it's enough to satisfy the killer, who seemed to have been deeply offended over the fact that you hadn't opened up your "gift" the instant you had laid hands on it. Still, it was good and disheartening to think that maybe there was another option. 

You eyed the killer for a little while longer. He was still on the floor with the arm lain over his eyes, he wasn't moving, and if it weren't for the steady movement of his chest going up and down as he breathed, you might have thought him dead ( and may God forgive you, but he should, die from alcohol poisoning, he'd be doing the world a _favor_ ). As if sensing your staring, he moved his arm so one eye was uncovered.

                "I'm not seein' you read," he frowned, the corners of his mouth tilting downwards. He nodded towards the papers atop of the nightstand. "Unless you wanna have me reading to you?"

Instantly, one hand flew up to the spot on your neck where he had sucked, it burned, and you really didn't want him near you any time sooner. Shaking your head as your answer, you noticed how he looked at you with sick glee in his gaze, before he hummed and lowered his arm.

You took this opportunity to stand up, legs wobbly and all, to reach for the folders. Once in your grasp, you didn't move to sit back down on the floor next to him. And since Jeff ( and at this point, you were just going to stick with his name after all ) hadn't made a noise of protest, you were sure he was okay with it. He might have been too far gone on his drinking to even notice, or care.

You sat down on your bed and moved until your back touched the wall, looked around for your skirt - now crumpled on your bed - and put it on, trying to not make as much sound as you could, it felt more embarrassing having Jeff watch you dress than seeing you without anything to cover your underwear.

Once you were somewhat modest, you eyed Jeff again and then the folders.

                "Alright, I have them." You said, surprisingly finding your voice steady, although the fear in it was still present. Your eyes ran all over Jeff's body, trying to imagine where he could possibly keep a knife to harm you in case you did something wrong ( or if just for the sake of it, he wanted to hurt you ). However, with only the dark shirt and the jeans, you couldn't really see where he could put it without it showing.

                "Take all the time you need," he grunted, with his free hand, he waved it around lazily. "Just don't be loud."

You blinked, and then he turned around so his back was facing you.

He didn't move after that.

Was he-

 _No_... he couldn't be, _he..._

                "Jeff?" You called out softly, waited for a reaction, even an answer. Instead you were met with silence, which as much as you cherished right now, made you feel cautious, wary. You opened up your mouth to speak again, but then closed it.

Mentally scolding yourself for almost saying his name again, you swallowed it down. This was good, maybe he was either ignoring you or actually fallen asleep. Death wasn't an option because he was still breathing. You very much preferred the silence treatment to the constant attention, seeing as the attention always ended up being done to spite you.

You still hadn't bothered to open the folder, it just didn't feel right to open it here. Maybe because you didn't want him to know your reaction  towards the contents inside of it, but just touching it felt like it was burning, whispering to you in an magnetic way to peer inside, it won't hurt you.

But you still couldn't will yourself to open it. You eyed the candles, ignoring ( and failing ) the smell of cinnamon which only brought you back to the dream, unpleasant feelings settling in your stomach, and you gulped. You hated the candles, you hated the smell of the cinnamon, you hated everything about your room right now.

You just needed to get _out_ , that's all.

Maybe then you could look at the contents the folder held, maybe then, outside of your room, you could breathe fresh air and calm down, not have to breathe in the smell of something sweet and unpleasant at the same time. It was nerve-wrecking, knowing you could easily walk out because the guy's sleeping on your floor.

But then again, it could all be an act to lure you into security, and he could be cruel and have a reason to hurt you, blame you. ( But it's not about reason, no. Jeff would hurt you just _because_ , but it's better, satisfying, to him knowing that he could blame you and a part of you would agree because if you hadn't done _so_ and _so_ , then maybe this and that wouldn't have happened ) 

It's so hopeless, so infuriating, freedom so close yet so far away.

                "[Name]?" There was a knock on your door, the sound muffled by it. You winced and snapped your head towards it, you watched as the doorknob shook and then twisted. You felt all of the blood on your body run cold.

It was a hasty decision, but you needed to act quick. Without looking at Jeff's form on the floor, you made your way towards the door and grabbed the doorknob, folder still in hand before stopping it from opening fully. 

Your heart was beating rapidly, so it took you a second to realize who exactly was at the door side and looking at you strangely. Still, you managed to put up a small smile, one that really didn't reach your eyes and laughed softly, nervously. 

Karmelia's mouth quirked downward, and you watched her gaze flicker just behind you, obviously noticing the candles and you instinctively stepped outside, closing the door with a soft click. You leaned back on the door and tried to look casual. If Karmelia noticed your strange behaviour, she didn't comment on it, however, her gaze on your form felt uncomfortable ( because she made no attempt to hide that she was analyzing you ) and you glanced to the floor.

You had been avoiding her ever since she found you on the bathroom, crying and hysterical.  More out of a selfless act of trying to save her, save her from getting involved in your mess. Maybe if you hadn't fought that day, she could have been living her life happily, not having to worry over your well being. So it was pretty awkward having to face her right now, but you couldn't invite her inside the room, not with _him_ there. 

                "Are you okay?" She asked, voice soft. 

You noticed that the halls were indeed dark, though the corridor was lit by candles hanging from the walls. There was soft chatter from the couple of students sitting down just outside their doors, bonding most likely. You looked around, trying to prolong your answer, maybe not answer at all. You could easily just slip back inside your room, offer no explanation.

Maybe Karmelia would take the message, to stop caring about you ( because you were being a horrible person, pushing her and not telling her why, at least she deserved a reason ) and leave. Let you go back inside the room, because as much as you didn't want to, it was your job, entertaining Jeff so he wouldn't kill anyone else. Wouldn't ruin anyone else's life.

Still, your mouth was already opening and words flying out of your mouth, you cursed your inability to think under pressure. "I'm fine, why the question?"

Karmelia frowned, "You missed dinner, and you look like you've seen a ghost." 

You laughed again, and shuffled back trying to get more space between the two, but the door was behind you. You were trapped, you gripped the folder on your hand tighter. "Ha, if you mean the math homework, then yeah, I think I've had."

You took in a deep breath, then another, short one. Closing your eyes you rested your head on the door, making a soft 'thud'. Your hold on the folder was still feeling pretty hot, scalding, and you let out a whimper, small. It was drowned out by your breathing, coming in short and rapid breaths.

You were vaguely aware of your name being called, then a hand on your shoulder, almost where Jeff had been licking before and you flinched, eyes snapping wide open.

Despite the fact that there was nowhere else to go with the door on the way, you still tried to put even more space between you and Karmelia who was still calling your name, the worried tone overpowering the softness of her voice, you finally took in another fuller breath and felt your legs give in. 

You ended up sitting on the floor, legs beneath you and you felt your body shake.

Karmelia was still talking, although now she had mirrored your current posture and was sitting down on the floor, you noticed that she was now sitting a bit further than you and you felt a bit more safe ( which was ridiculous, this was Karmelia, _your friend_ ) and then bit your lip.

It took you an embarrassing long time to finally calm down enough to actually be able to comprehend what Karmelia was saying. The first thing you noticed was that the chatter had died down and you felt all eyes on the two of you.

You ignored that ( the staring, the murmurs ), and soon enough the chatter continued, you were sure that these girls were probably already tired of your freaking out.

                 "--reathe, okay, stay with me. You're okay, [Name], breathe, softly, in and out. That's it." Karmelia sighed in relief once she was sure she had your attention. You let the folder slip from your grasp, instantly, Karmelia's eyes snapped towards them but quickly came back to you.

                 "Look, I'm not going to ask you for the truth, that there's something wrong going on, because we both know that's not going to happen," Her eyes flashed with bitterness and what seemed like being genuine sadness, but she quickly shook her head, "but I need to know if you're okay with me touching you." 

You thought about it, and as much as it pained you to come up with the answer, you still needed to reply. "No."

Karmelia nodded in understanding, and you felt your shoulders ease. Karmelia was probably the only one from your group of friends that knew of your reason for coming to the academy. You knew that she probably thought that you were going back to how you were when you first entered, jittery, prone to panic and anxiety attacks, flashbacks and scared to speak up. She knew there was _something_ triggering your sudden behaviour, and as much as you'd like to think that she wouldn't pry anymore, you knew it wasn't going to happen.

Maybe not now, but sooner or later Karmelia is bound to find out and when it happens, you just needed to be either dead or far, _far_ away. 

                 "I need you to answer honestly, [Name]." She pulled a face when you frowned, "I'm serious, I'm worrying that you're going to... to do something stupid." _Again_. You knew she wasn't going to say it, but it was heavily implied. Her eyes ran over to your arms, trying to see if there were any new scars over the older ones, and you felt like covering them up, ashamed.

You were never one to feel self-conscious about your body. Sure you weren't some greek goddess who attracted everyone with a pair of legs and eyes, but you were content with your body. However, not scarred and marked with ugly scars, you couldn't help but be ashamed of it, hate your body. You've hated it before, but for different reasons ( and once, you even thought about just changing your sex, because it was your female anatomy that caused your misfortune in the first place ) entirely. 

Now, these scars were signs of self-harm to others, to Karmelia. It was a bitter thing, and you couldn't help but chuckle darkly inside your mind. If only they knew, that the scars were inflicted by a killer with a _need_ to just mark, everything that entertained him. Everything that was _his_.

And... the thought, it was disheartening, but it was the truth. You were his right now, as long as he controled your every action, as long as his presence was around, your life belonged to him, for as long as he desired it so. 

 _I want you to fear me and crave my touch._ Those were Jeff's words, and as much as you'd like to deny it, he was right. You feared him, with everything in your being, you were terrified of him. But at least he looked at your scars with some sort of sick admiration, with fondness. Like he's so happy to just have himself everywhere on your body, for everyone to see, you were sure that he'd make it clearer, mark his name on your skin if it wouldn't raise suspicion. But at least his look didn't border on disappointment and pity, just like Karmelia's gaze was.

But he didn't care about you and he was a killer, cold hearted and crazy. Unstable and wrong, sinful. Your own personal demon. Karmelia cared, which is why she's disappointed.

                 "It's not... I haven't-" You gulped, and slowly looked at Karmelia in the eyes. "I found some folders... um, they seem important, I don't know what to do with them. They..."

The lie, it came easy, it moved the topic onto something else that was not entirely you. Sure it wasn't a whole lie, half of it was true, the folder had caused this reaction in you. Karmelia's eyes trailed towards the folder and then went to pick it up. Before her fingers touched it though, she looked at you.

                 "May I?" She didn't hesitate when you gave her a nod, before grabbing it and bringing it closer. She seemed like she wanted to open it, but waited until you finished speaking.

                 "And I'm not sure, but it feels wrong to open them." You stated, then Karmelia blinked.

                 "You haven't checked what they are?" When you shook your head, she bit her lower lip and handed you the folder, "You should read it first then, and if you think it's wise for me to read them, then you can let me."

You blinked at the folder, and didn't feel all of the tension of when you had first gotten it. Karmelia offering it to you seemed more normal, more safe. Mouthing a small thanks that was most likely missed, you took the folder and opened it.

Inside of it were a couple of familiar papers, and once you actually managed to concentrate on them, you felt your throat closed up. There were images of Samantha, taken from afar, different angles, places, some were blurry while others were disturbingly close and detailed. Other than the pictures, which were have been stapled to another piece of paper, there was nothing disturbing. Nothing gore, just creepy pictures. You eyed each and one of them, making sure that the folder was still up so Samantha wouldn't be able to see them.

There were some pictures of Samantha from places that were not from school grounds, which only made you realize that they were probably from her hometown. You felt a shiver run down your spine. Samantha had been stalked by Jeff up until he had been arrested, and once free, probably tracked her down onto the academy.

You couldn't stand looking at Samantha's smiling face, so happy and carefree, at ease. Such a different image from the one you had on your brain, her dead body. So you quickly moved on to the paper stapled behind the pictures. You noticed that it was the information gathered on the months she spent on the counseling office. Well now you knew where those wandered off to.

But besides the papers focusing on Samantha, there were another stack of papers. Just like Samantha's, these had various pictures, not as many as her's, but close enough. At this point, you'd be liying if you said you hadn't expected them to be pictures of yourself.

The only difference were that most of the pictures were those where your scars and wounds were more visible, and all of the pictures were more detailed, up close. Jeff's been keeping an eye on you, even when you didn't know he had been. You didn't settle on the pictures for long and looked at the other paper, your information on the reason to your enrollment of the academy, every detail and thoughts of your sessions on the paper.

You couldn't stand it anymore, closing the folder, you mentally counted to ten and then looked at Karmelia. She had been watching your reaction and now you hoped that you hadn't given much away. "Just some papers concerning  the safety of the school. They're old."

Karmelia opened her mouth to say something, you could tell she was about to call you out on your lie. When suddenly the lights came back on, you groaned and closed your eyes, the sudden change in lightning doing nothing but bringing a dull ache to your head.

When you finally opened your eyes, Karmelia was rubbing hers, there was more animated talking from the other girls and then doors opening and closing. Soon enough the two of you were the only ones left. You stood up to turn around and bid her farewell, you needed to be inside your room before Karmelia kept on asking questions.

You halted momentarily by what Karmelia said next.

                 "You... you _smell_ like alcohol... is that a- is that a _hickey?_ " You didn't have to look at Karmelia to know that her eyes were wide in confusion and shock, instead you turned around, opened the door and walked inside. Closing the door behind you, you let out a sigh.

You waited for Karmelia's shouts demanding for an explanation, but instead you were met with a silence. A couple of minutes went by before you heard her footsteps retreat and you closed your eyes. Dropping the folder on the floor, the contents spilling out.

You didn't care if Jeff was still on the room or not, you just wanted some peace and quiet. Time for yourself. So you slumped down on the floor, head resting on the door and closed your eyes, and then inhaled the smell of cinnamon.

You cried yourself to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a serious note, I need you guys to call me out whenever I use words that don't belong in the sentence because it's not what I think it means. Don't sugarcoat anything, please, be as harsh and as honest as you can. Checking the last chapter, I stumbled upon the word 'scuttled' and after searching for it's meaning, realized that it was not the word I intended to use (and I'm deeply embarrassed you guys had to read that, sorry about that) (I wanted to say that reader "moved" back) and only used it because it sounded right to my brain.
> 
> My first language is Spanish so I'm bound to mess up big time, which really doesn't excuse the faults, but it's something to have in mind. Also, as for the comments, I would deeply prefer if they were more criticising, I love that, helps me get better.
> 
> I wanted to say thank you, because since my last update, which was on August 11, the story reached 100 kudos, and then, up until this day, there are now 120+ and counting!  
> I wish I could give you guys faster updates, but since I'm increasing the word count for each update up to 3k+ words, and school in the way, it's been getting harder to write for something in which I have to focus 100% to not mess up characterization, so if you see me writing for something else that's not this fic, I'm just blowing off steam by writing something else.
> 
> I'm planning on having at least two chapters out before the month ends.


	16. 15

_God_ , it is pretty visible now that you can finally see it. 

 

You turn your head to the side, cold fingers touching the spot lightly. The bathroom’s light doing a pretty good job of illuminating everything perfectly. You’re pretty sure that if it weren’t for the amount of time that has passed since Jeff left the mark; the teeth marks would be visible.

 

You sigh, rubbing your face with the palm of your hand. Leaning forward until your head touched the cold bathroom mirror, you concentrated on breathing, watching as the mirror fogged up with your warm breath.

 

You can hear the sound of other students making their way towards the bathrooms. The early risers, you suppose. It’s somewhere around six AM, no need to look at a clock when its common knowledge that most girls woke up around that time so that they wouldn’t be stuck waiting on the bathroom to free up. Despite the fact that there are several bathroom rooms around the buildings, this one tended to be the most used.

 

It’s not like you want to be surrounded by people, not now. Certainly not any time soon. But, it was either that or risking your chances with the killer, and just the simple mark on your neck is enough to make your stomach tighten. Not to mention the other scars on your body, not exactly gone but not that visible either.

 

When the door opens and the chatter of a group of students grows loudly, you leave the mirror and grab your stuff, heading to one of the shower stalls. The process of stripping down doesn’t take you long, not with the silent promise of being able to bathe and at least feel like a decent human being.

 

And, _oh_ , the water _is_  nice. You let yourself enjoy the heat of it hitting your skin, burning hot. Push aside all thoughts of what happened last night, push away the feeling of cold and rough hands grabbing and touching. If you end up scrubbing your skin raw, then you don’t acknowledge it.

 

Even after you were done, you didn’t walk out of the stall. Probably will get mean looks once you did – even behind the sound of water hitting the wall and tiles, you can hear the increasing amount of noise, meaning that the girls were getting ready for another school day – and will most likely return then back. You needed this. You deserve some peace and quiet.

 

No matter how short of a time-span that might be. But beggars can´t be choosers, and if today you´re rewarded with at least an hour of peacefulness both mentally and physically then so be it. You need the time to come up with an excuse for Karmelia.

 

You wrap the towel around your body and walk out. Sure enough, there’s a small line of girls who have been waiting on your specific stall. You let out an apology at the nearest one, who only rolls her eyes and walks inside the stall, closing it shut. You waste no time inside there, instead heading out to the part of the bathroom where the lockers are at.

 

You manage to move through the crowd of students with ease, thankful that no one was paying attention to yourself, or at least, not so much that it’d meant needing to talk to you for any reason whatsoever. 

 

It’s only when you reach your locker that you realize that you didn’t bring your uniform. You let out a small sigh, irritation quickly fleeting through your mind. Okay. You can walk, it’s not like you haven´t done it before. It’s not uncommon for this sort of thing to happen.

 

You slip on your slippers, grab your crumpled uniform from last night, and make your way out of the bathroom and into the hall. You let your thoughts wander off to suitable excuses, trying to ignore – with little success – the tightening of your chest just because of the thought of lying to Karmelia, yet again.

 

You feel awful enough as it is. You wish you couldn’t lie to her, but it’s her safety. God knows that you aren’t doing it to make her feel bad, but if getting her away from you it’s what it takes to provide her actual safety, then you’d push her away. 

 

A selfish part of you though, can’t fathom having her anywhere else but helping you. 

 

You blink, looking around the hallway. More students walking by.  Gossip and chatter easily mixing together. You bite your lip. Maybe she’d understand, if you’d explain. The marks and the hickey are enough proof. But those could also be classified as proof that you’re feeling suicidal.

 

If only you could talk about Samantha being dead, then maybe all of this wouldn’t be such a big mess. Your mind briefly flashes the memory of the supposed dead bear, for a second the only thing you can smell is blood and it’s putrid, disgusting, disorienting you– 

 

You take a deep breath, close your eyes. Count to ten, backwards.

 

No. You can’t talk about Samantha. Not now.

 

Later. In the future. It’s the least you can do. Avenge her? No? Something else. Recognize that she’s dead, killed. 

 

God, what of her parents?

 

“Get a grip on it.” You sigh, clench your hand. 

 

You reach your room fairly quickly and then you don’t waist time when you open the door. The moment you’re inside, the smell of cinnamon and the lingering – but not quite strong – smell of alcohol instantly fill your nose. You gag a little, nose scrunching up in clear distaste.

 

The smell is horrible, brings nothing more than a sick feeling to your stomach. Flashes of last night’s dreams resurface and you gladly push them down, lock them. It’s not the time to freak out right now. 

 

It’s not until you realize that the room is empty and untouched – that’s without counting the papers scattered on the floor, your bible which had been held by Jeff last night strewn about, pages probably missing, the bed sheets all messed up and the candles, then everything is at it was – that you feel a tension you didn’t know had been with you, ease from your shoulders.

 

You breathe in deeply, ignore the smell of cinnamon, and then drop the towel on your bed. You make no haste in putting on your underwear and then uniform. Hesitating slightly when your hand brushes your book bag, you bite your lip, [eye color] eyes flickering off to the side where your books are placed.

 

It’s been a while since you actually attended any classes. It’s not outright skipping, since you’ve been spending most of your time inside the psychologist’s office, and all of your classes have been postponed. But in all honesty, you’re feeling tired and sick of the same walls everyday.

 

You’d rather spend the whole day taking [least favorite subject] classes than being with that woman any longer. Plus, you were fine. This is fine. You can show others that you’re in top condition to once more join your classmates.

 

It takes you a couple of minutes to gather the necessary supplies for today’s classes. 

 

You eye the folders on the floor. Bending to pick them up, you scan both of them. Even if you were to open them, you know that what’s inside of them hadn’t changed since last night – though you wish they had, wished that these were simple school-related folders, homework, anything but what they actually were – and that thought is enough to make you rethink on what you were about to do.

 

It only felt right to return the documents – sans pictures, for obvious reasons – to the psychologist’s office. Samantha’s in general, if only to reduce the amount of guilt that’s begun to pile up with each day since her death. 

 

Still, before that, you needed to do something and you were going to do it today. It’s only fair.

 

You put both folders inside your book bag. Grab your bedroom keys and walk out.

 

 

 

 

“Miss [Last name], is there something amiss?”

 

You swallow, eyes never leaving the teacher’s own gaze. Her mouth had been pulled downwards, the slight crease of her eyebrows indicating that she was nothing more than displeased at the sudden interruption of her class. 

 

A simple flicker of [eye color] eyes towards the board could show that you were thoroughly screwed because you couldn’t understand a lick of what was even going on.

 

A flicker to the other side, and you could see the silent, yet amused air of your classmates as they literally fed off of the drama that will most likely unravel if you didn’t pick your words carefully. Though as it is, it’s already a futile attempt to not garner any sort of attention.

 

It’s your fault, mostly. You almost fell asleep at the table earlier. Apparently not eating anything last night plus the stress you were going through this morning, was enough to make your body decide to just throw out everything through the window. You felt tired.

 

Whatever ounce of energy and determination that you had, say, thirty minutes earlier, was now long gone. Instead, exhaustion and a small headache where beginning to reside in your body. Still, you didn’t want to spend the day doing nothing, it felt awfully wrong, now that the events from the past couple of weeks have stopped being such a dead weight.

 

( Not to say that they’re completely forgotten. No, far from that. You’re just simply fed up with being scared all of the time and feeling pathetic and useless. )

 

“Nothing. Um–” You pull on the scarf around your neck – put on this morning when you nearly forgot that you have a hideous looking mark visible on your neck – and try to give a pitiful look. You think it works, sort of, with the help of clear exhaustion on your face and the dark rings around your eyes. “I’m just going to start taking classes again.”

 

At this, the woman frowns, crosses her arms over her chest. “Were you allowed to start taking classes again?”

 

You bite the inside of your cheek; feel your face getting hot. “I… No?” When you see that she’s about to protest, you quickly take out a folder with the subject’s classes and homework. “But, I brought my homework?”

 

The teacher eyes the papers, off to the side; your classmates have lost all interest on the scene in front of them, low chatter beginning to fill the classroom. You try not to look at Karmelia, who you know hasn’t stopped looking at you. The teacher grabs the folder, opens it and looks at it, reading. 

 

Then, “Have a seat, [Name].” 

 

You give the teacher a small, thankful smile, and then make your way towards one of the empty desks. If it happens to be just besides Karmelia’s, then you thank God for it. The moment you sit down, you feel eyes on you, and you swallow, place the book bag on the table and take out a notebook and a pen. 

 

You sit down and take a deep breath, trying to tune in the teacher’s voice. It feels weird, to be here again, being surrounded by others. It doesn’t help that sometimes someone looked back to stare at you, no matter how briefly their attention lingered on you.

 

Alas, no matter how long you tried to pay attention, everything was just too confusing to acknowledge. You sigh; roll the pen in hand on the desk for a couple of seconds before deciding on ripping a piece of paper from the back of your notebook.

 

You write on it, then, subtlety throw it at Karmelia’s desk.

 

It’s a couple of minutes before you receive the paper back.

 

_Finally decided to stop being a hooligan, then?_

 

_Sorta? I mean, these were a nice few weeks._

 

_Yeah. For you. I had to sit down and do your homework._

 

_:c sorry._

 

_Whatever._

 

_Look, I’m really sorry about last night. I’ll make it up to you. Last period?_

 

 

 

Karmelia doesn’t reply at this point, so you turn to look at her and find that she’s been looking at you. Panic is quickly smothered down; you don’t avert your eyes. Karmelia holds your gaze for a couple of seconds before breaking contact, she puts her notebook and other materials inside her book bag and let’s out a sound that could’ve been a “Fine.” But it’s easily drowned out by the sound of the bell ringing.

 

Then, it’s the sound of chairs scrapping floor and chatter. Karmelia gives you a small smile, one last look and then she’s walking out of the classroom.

 

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You suppose that she’s allowed to be like this, you certainly would be if your friend was constantly lying to you. 

 

Well, at least it’s something.

 

You walk out of the classroom, momentarily disoriented by the amount of commotion out in the hall. Thinking about what your next class is, you try not to let the fact that it’s only first period get you down. Then, you think about the fact that last period is too far away, there are too many hours to let doubt slowly creep in.

 

And your book bag feels heavy. You hold it tighter to your body. 

 

This is going to be a long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I want to apologize because it might seem like I've dropped this story, which is not the case. When I last posted chapter 15, school had become quite bothersome and left me unable to update. Then, December came along and my laptop decided to fuck me up and died.  
> I had a lot of material written out already, and its lost. I was just waiting to see if I could get my laptop fixed by February. It's April, no laptop. I'm rewriting everything (around 35k+ words lost ) again from memory so you guys won't have to wait for updates anymore.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey you guys. I just want to say that this story is now marked as incomplete. I'm not going to touch it ever again, even though it's constantly on my mind and the ending has been clear and polished for three years now.   
> When i started this story, back in 2014 if i'm not mistaken, it was an outlet for my emotions. I was going through some shit and feeling like killing myself over how dirty i felt. even though i wasn't raped, i was sexually assaulted and it took me a long while to come to terms with myself that it was not my fault. I coped writing this story, i believe i had mentioned this on the comments once. 
> 
> Anyways, I like to believe I'm in a much better place right now. I don't actively feel repulsed by males touching me or looking at me, or just being friendly with me. I have no reason to doubt their intentions anymore, I don't feel scared to talk to others. Although all of this might be product of my growing apathy towards a lot of things, which sure, it isn't healthy per see, but it's much better than the state I was in when I was actively writing the story.
> 
> For this reason, i no longer have any inspiration or motivation to sit down and finish this story. I hope you guys understand. 
> 
> I am however, working on a much lighter story featuring our favorite asshole Jeff. In terms of content, it still has dark themes related by default to the creepypasta fandom, but most of the subjects such as rape, death and others are treated much more light-heartedly. Reader is garbage fire and so is Jeff. If you're interested, I'll have the first chapter up by the first week of July.

\------------------

**Author's Note:**

> I'm uploading this story on DeviantArt, but since this fic will have certain things that might either get me banned or get the story revoked, I'm also uploading it here.
> 
> also please support me maybe and consider buying me a [ko-fi](ko-fi.com/crystallizedinsomniac)


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